


Climb Into His Skin

by socksaregoodshit



Series: Climb Into His Skin [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Additional Tags to Be Added, AsaNoya - Freeform, Boxers, F/F, Failed arranged marriage, Family Fighting, Family Reunion, Journalists, KageHina - Freeform, M/M, Mentions of past kidnapping, Mentions of past suicide, Spiked drink, ennotana - Freeform, tsukkiyama - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2018-12-16 12:26:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 24
Words: 41,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11828739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/socksaregoodshit/pseuds/socksaregoodshit
Summary: Oikawa Tooru is a journalist with deep secrets about his past. Iwaizumi Hajime is a rookie boxer who's predicted to create a storm in this year's tournaments.Oikawa gets assigned to cover Iwaizumi's journey through the training and fights. He thinks Iwaizumi hates him at first, before learning he hates journalists in general.Oikawa wants to show Iwaizumi that his hatred is unfounded.But when their pasts come back to haunt them and they find it's now interlinked. A lot of people are going to get hurt.Can they stop it in time?





	1. "This Scoop Is Too Good For Him To Miss."

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first published fanfiction that I've been able to complete. It's my first Haikyuu!! fandom fanfiction and I'm very nervous about posting it. 
> 
> I actually have all of the chapters written and have started on a prequel story, so this story will be updated weekly
> 
> I hope you like it!

Rain battered the windows of the print room; yet dozens of eyes took no notice. It was crunch time. Reporters finishing reports, editors working overtime to correct mistakes and printers producing mass copies of the papers with various stories from crime to sports. The absence of one reporter, however, didn't escape the eyes of the manager. 

"Where is that damn Tooru?" He questioned, deep brown eyes meeting those of his silver haired editor.

"We're not sure, Daichi, but I'm sure he'll be here," the editor replied, skimming his eyes over the first printed draft of the newspaper that will be in stores around the city by the morning. "This scoop is too good for him to miss." 

"I don't know whether to trust your confidence in him, Koushi, he is a notedly frivolous man--" Sawamura was cut short by the sound of the heavy oak doors to the printing room being pushed open. 

"I--" the man paused, seemingly adding dramatic effect to his words, raising his hands in a shrug of his shoulders, "--have arrived." A smirk illuminated his face. His duffle coat held small droplets of rain in the fabric and Sawamura couldn't believe he wasn't trying to take better care of the clearly expensive coat, a coat which would happen to become damaged in rain any heavier than the one coming down outside. 

"You're late." Sawamura stated matter-of-factly, several pairs of eyes lifting from writing or editing to watch the skirmish.

"I concur, I'm fashionably late." Oikawa said in reply, going to his desk, gathering multiple pens, a notepad and pushing them into his old, worn satchel. His camera was next, he placed the large lensed, wide frame camera into a separate bag specifically for the task at hand, "welp, I'm off!" He beamed, heading back towards the doors, pushing back outside into the rain. A plain black umbrella popping up outside the window moments later. 

"I swear to God, he is a frivolous man." Sawamura groaned, much to Sugawara's amusement. 

Oikawa skipped through the rain, his coat hanging open with the waist ties trailing behind him, two bags at his hip and an umbrella to shelter his, once again, perfectly coiffed hair. Being a reporter was fun for him, deadlines meant nothing, he took stories he was interested in and could easily go over the required word count in a few hours. He loved his job immensely. 

Although this story was really going to be completely different, totally out of his comfort zone, and as he walked through the streets, people becoming sparse as he crossed into the part of town he wasn't as well aquainted with. Nor did he want to be, he decided as he saw the run-down, sorry looking streets, rife with graffitti, broken shop windows and litter on all corners. And, on one of those corners, he laid eyes on his destination. A dark, grime covered building, the dirty windows were covered in a metal mesh, obviously to prevent breaking. Oikawa wondered momentarily if this was the right place and not a brothel in disguise; and possibly the whole scoop being a hoax created by two cretins he called his friends.

"Did Matssun and Makki give me the right address?" He spoke aloud, and against his better judgement he slowly opened the door and peeked inside, only to be greeted by a small foyer entrance, and another set of doors. 

As he edged inside he was met by a rancid smell, familiar but not enough to name. And his thoughts immediately began trying to pick out any giveaway to the scent, a brief thought crossed his mind as he moved haphzardly closer to the second set of doors; what if it is a brothel?! What if its a gangster hideout and he's about to walk in on someone 'sleeping with the fishes'?! 

 

A reverbarating sound travelled through his body as he opened the door, mustering his façade of confidence in such an unfamiliar place even more paramount, the smell was stronger in this room, it was a large open planned gym, simple weight machines along one wall, a boxing ring in the far corner, even in the poor lighting he saw two people in the ring, and decided to head over as another slapping sound filled his ears. Ah, that was the smell; sweat.

"Yes, Hajime, like that," an older man encouraged, his hair was greying on his face and balding on his head, Oikawa had to guess he was in his late 50s, his eyes slid across to Oikawa. "May we help you?" He asked, his voice soft but confident, but possibly even wary. 

Taken back, it took Oikawa several seconds to find his words, "um, I'm a reporter." He swallowed, making his voice louder, "I've took interest in a story of a rookie boxer making his way up the ladder--" And almost immediately he was shut down. 

"I'm not a fucking side show for you to be 'interested' in." The younger man growled, hopping over the ropes and into Oikawa's face. Despite being a few centimetres taller than the man before him, Oikawa instinctively moved back slightly. He observed the smaller man's eyes as they painstakingly rolled over him, first settling on his satchel, almost seemingly figuring out what was inside, his eyes then came to rest on the deep blue, woolen coat. "You're pretty brave fucking around here in that," his scowl deepened, he practically spat his final words, "Pretty Boy."

"Now, now, Hajime," the older man scolded, raising his hand onto Iwaizumi's broad shoulders.

"But Uncle--" 

"Hajime." Oikawa watched the interaction curiously. "I posted the story request at your agency, Mr. Reporter. Feel free to watch my Hajime, interview him, give him all the publicity he needs to make it big in this town! In this country!" Oikawa watched in awe at the pride the Uncle felt for his nephew, understanding the feeling from his pride for his own nephew, Takeru. He grinned. 

"Then can I start with a picture of the pair of you?" Oikawa beamed his most natural, excited smile, drawing his camera from the camera bag.

"Do I not get a say in this?" Iwaizumi glowered at Oikawa and slightly softened his expression at his uncle. 

"Hajime, don't worry," his Uncle smiled, patting his shoulder gently, "he won't get in the way. Right, Mr. Reporter?" He winked to Oikawa, a gesture that urged him to play along.

"Of course! I'll be extra quiet and not get in your way, Hajime!" He realised his mistake too late.

"No way are you calling my by my first name." He snarled, looking into Oikawa's eyes defiantly, "oh, and listen up, Powder Puff, I'm not playing around here, okay? Get in my way, even once, and see what happens." His poked the centre of Oikawa's chest hard, turning away and disappearing behind a door at the back of the room. The air lost its sharp edge at his departure.

"So," Oikawa started, looking towards Iwaizumi's Uncle, "can I ask you a few questions? If I go back empty handed my boss won't be a bit happy." This earned a chuckle from the Uncle as he sat down, agreeing to Oikawa's request. 

 

It was late evening when Oikawa returned to his office, there were less people there than before, but that was to be expected. Crunch had ended an hour ago, the only people there were a few reporters, as well as Sawamura and Sugawara who were both hunched over Sawamura's desk discussing profits from the sales of that day. 

Feeling greatly enlightened by Iwaizumi's uncle's information and compliance to release such information upon the first meeting, he felt no need to hold back, delving into his profile on Iwaizumi, details of his age, place of birth, goals, achievements, his statistics, all flitting onto paper, his only qualm being that he had failed to gain most of the information to fill the profile with, specifically Iwaizumi's motivation. His focus only shifted when a shadow covered the light he was using.

"Excuse me--" Oikawa looked up, seeing Sugawara standing in front of his desk, in front of his light.

"So, how did it go, Tooru?" He said, sitting on the edge of his desk, peering at the written pages beneath his shadow.

"Information wise, it was a gold mine." He stated, resting his head over his hands, fingers interlocked together. "But Hajime- urm, the guy, I'm pretty sure he wants to kill me and dump my body in the river. His uncle is really nice, how did it go so bad between one generation?" He huffed. Earning a raised eyebrow from his colleague.

"Well, what makes you think that?" 

"He threatened to do it." Okiawa thought back to the remark that was spoken as he was leaving the gym. 

"Wow, I like him already!" Sugawara laughed, swinging his legs, unfortunately they were swung back under the table when Oikawa shoved his hand into his back halfheartedly, making Sugawara lose his balance for a couple seconds before he could resteady himself. 

"He also called me a 'pretty boy' and a 'powder puff', what the heck is that?"

"Oh, a powder puff is a fluffy make up application tool." Sugawara informed. "He's either calling you fluffy or a tool." 

"Giving his crude way of speaking I think its the latter." Oikawa said as Sugawara snorted. Sawamura walked over to the pair, carry a takeout bag.

"Aww," Oikawa cooed, "are you treating us, boss?" 

"I might be, Powder Puff." Sawamura replied, stifling a smile, taking three paninis from the bag. He glanced at the pouting Oikawa, then to his notes and his written profile, taking a bite from his panini. "You sure work fast, if you can get this much information in such a short amount of time you won't have to put up with him for long." Oikawa sighed at the thought, unwrapping his panini and taking a mouthful, God he couldn't wait.


	2. "The Great Atticus Finch!"

The next day was better, the weather was still clouded and overcast, it still made the rough part of town meaner and darker, but at least it was no longer raining. 

Oikawa practically skipped into the boxing gym, only to be hit by a stronger smell than yesterday, louder sounds, and a brighter room, industrial lights high on the ceiling illuminating the ring. Peeling his coat off he slung it over his arm, he walked over to the ring, his eyes drawn to two bodies aggressively locked together a pensive stand off. One of the bodies was easily Iwaizumi, but the other man was someone that Oikawa had never seen before, his most noticeable feature being his black and grey, slicked back two tone hair. There were also more people to the side, noticing a friendly face in Iwaizumi's Uncle he headed over to the group.

"Afternoon!" He cheered, smiling at the group, sliding his hands into his pockets, his coat still draped over his arm.

"Good afternoon, Tooru," Iwaizumi's uncle smilled, "so Hajime didn't scare you off yesterday?" 

"Nope!" Oikawa grinned, "I may be a 'pretty boy' but I'm certainly not weak." 

"Hey, Uncle, who's this?" A tall man with rough black hair, half shaven asked inquizitively, looking between the Uncle and Oikawa.

"This is the reporter I asked to cover Hajime's growth into fame, Tetsurou," the Uncle responded, it took Oikawa time to register that they weren't actually related and that 'Uncle' was merely a pet name. Perhaps it was the same for Iwaizumi too? 

"I'm Tooru Oikawa, its a pleasure to meet you?" Oikawa questioned, wanting to not be the only one revealed to the group, hoping that the addition of a question would make them reveal themselves.

"Ah, yes," The possible Uncle interjected, "you haven't met the others have you?" He turned to the taller one with black spikey hair, "this is Tetsurou Kuroo, he's another one of the men I train here, the others being Hajime and Koutarou Bokuto," his hand motioned to the ring where Iwaizumi and Bokuto were exchanging blows, a young man with short and slightly wavy hair hung over the ropes observing their sparring, "Keiji Akaashi over there is my assistant, I need a second referee when they're all here. And this--" his hand landed on a smaller man's shoulders, Oikawa was taken back at his short stature and dyed blonde hair that was beginning to fade at the roots, "--is Kenma Kozume. He recently came back here with Tetsurou, he's the current towel and water boy." 

"So, Tooru, I can call you Tooru, yeah?" Kuroo asked, not waiting for an answer before beginning his next question, "are you here just for Hajime or are you here to observe us all?" Oikawa poked his tongue into his cheek, thinking of the answer he needed to give versus the answer he wanted to give.

"If you're interesting enough I suppose I could throw you in there." He smirked, thinking: Good one, Tooru. 

 

A loud, piercing noise filtered through the air, drawing the group's attention to the ring as a shrill of the bell rang out, ending the sparring match between the two well built men. 

"Hajime! Your shadow is here!" Kuroo called over, grinning playfully.

"Hey, hey, hey, who's this guy?" Bokuto asked, bounding over like an excitable puppy, he looked Oikawa up and down, before looking towards Iwaizumi, he whispered, albeit rather loudly, "he's so pretty!" Oikawa sworn he heard Iwaizumi's tongue click in annoyance as he climbed from the ring, heading once again for the room at the back. And with that, Oikawa wanted to rip his hair out. He was frustrated. How the hell could a person be so crude, yet so interesting? So intriguing? He wanted to know everything about Hajime Iwaizumi. And he knew exactly where to start. 

"Hey, Tetsurou, what's Hajime's deal?" He asked, approaching the taller man who was standing beside Kenma. 

"Ahh, you've come to the right person," Kuroo responded, leaning in and draping his arm over Oikawa's shoulders, pressing close to his ear, "he's a boxer." He snickered, earning the fastest reaction from eager to deadpan he'd ever seen, moving away to his original position beside the water boy, picking up a bottle. 

"Personally I don't think its our place other than Hajime's to tell him." Kozume stated bluntly, playing with the towel in his hands, "we all have reasons for being here." 

"Then I'll find out." Oikawa resolved, his eyebrows furrowing in determination. 

"Good luck with that," the previously quiet Akaashi declared, walking over from his place at the ring with Bokuto, "your lifestyle is completely different to his, I suggest you learn about how different is here than it is across the track lines. It was hard for me at first."

"You weren't born here, Keiji?" Oikawa questioned, his curiosity piqued. 

"No, my father is a wealthy hotel owner. But I live here now." Akaashi said with a somber tone that Oikawa couldn't quite comprehend. 

"Why did you leave?" 

"Hey, make sure he's comfortable talking about it first, Tooru." Kuroo scolded before Bokuto could jump in. This made Akaashi let out a small smile and a huff.

"I'm fine." He turned to Oikawa, sitting down beside the quiet towel boy, "long story short, my father owed a large sum of money towards a gang in this area, but refused to pay no matter what happened. One day I was on my way to my university campus and was attacked by a group of low lives from the gang. They held me hostage but my father never paid the ransom or the money that he owed back," Oikawa couldn't believe what he was hearing, as if the story wasn't bad enough it was the way Akaashi spoke of the event as if he had never participated, but now it seemed to be taking its toll and Akaashi understandably paused to compose himself. 

"Keiji, take your time." Kozume said, silencing Bokuto before he could get riled up with Akaashi's distress. He looked at the man beside him, his eyes observing every hidden movement in Akaashi's posture. 

"I was able to escape the gang but I had nowhere to go. My father had practically sold me to sell off his debts. Then I found here. Uncle took me in, no questions asked, and I now work here in safety. But the biggest problem for me was the lifestyle change. Maybe one of us could take you around this side of town, let you see how Hajime grew up." 

"I would much prefer to go alone." Oikawa replied, he worked best with no restraints.

"You wouldn't last two seconds on these streets." A dark voice interrupted. The huddle looked up to see Iwaizumi, fully changed and heading to the door with a gym bag over his shoulder, "not that I care. You're just scum." 

"Excuse me?" Oikawa hissed, glaring at Iwaizumi, "I don't think someone who has hardly even spoken to me without an insult being thrown at me has the right to call anyone 'scum'. Honestly you're not selling yourself." 

"Good. I'm not something to be bought or sold." Iwaizumi stalked out of the room, slamming the big doors behind him, earning a huff from Oikawa. 

"Are you going to go after him?" Bokuto questioned, filling the dead silence.

"Nope!" Oikawa smiled, leaving the room after Iwaizumi. Bokuto looked on in confusion, muttering something like: "but you just did." 

 

Looking around, it didn't take Oikawa long to spot Iwaizumi half way down the road, he gave chase quietly, it was now early evening and a freezing fog was beginning to settle over the suburb, making Oikawa shiver, he shrugged on his coat. No way was he going to be left alone on these poorly lit, fog shrouded streets. 

Gun shots echoed in the distance, making Oikawa flinch, he was beginning to see what Akaashi meant, even though the city was one and the same, this place was not somewhere safe like the streets he had been raised on. Climatisation was difficult. He continued to follow the boxer to a small park, watching as he went inside, walking along what looked like a run down basketball court, Oikawa stuck to the shadows of trees, not walking along the tarred court in case he gave away his presence. However, it seemed that Iwaizumi was not someone who would leave something so easily unnoticed. 

"I'm not deaf, you know," he said, glacing behind him as he took a seat on a park bench before adding, "but then again, you're not really very quiet with those fancy ass shoes." 

"Har, har," Oikawa said, deciding not to play dumb, emerging from the shadows.

"Why did you follow me?" 

"Reporter's instinct, I guess?" He planted himself on the bench beside Iwaizumi who consciously moved away from him, "I can smell an interesting story a mile away."

"Again with the story thing, I'm not a fucking story, I'm a human. You reporters are all the same, twisting words and destroying careers." 

"Hm? I've never once done such a back handed thing." Oikawa said, "I don't get why you must tar us all with the same brush." There was silence from Iwaizumi, although after a few minutes he did puff out a sigh. 

"Leave me alone."

"No way, Iwa-chan." This earned a growl from the shorter man. 

"Why are you so insistant? What the hell is with that nickname?" 

"Because there's information that you have, and I want." Oikawa stared, matching Iwaizumi's scowl with his own smug smile. "And because the nickname makes you a little more bearable for a pretty boy like me." 

"I'm not telling you anything." 

"Then show me?" Oikawa said, "my main interest right now is not you, it's your habitat. That should be fine, right?" He watched Iwaizumi and could almost see his brain analysing the situation carefully. 

"What's in it for me?" 

"You get to watch me fail at everything you know." Oikawa said, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees and his head on his interlocked fingers, he looked to the floor, "Keiji told me his story. It changed my perspective considerably. I want to live a day in the life of Hajime Iwaizumi." He watched Iwaizumi's face twist into another scowl, however this one lacked any aggression.

"Why?" 

"Why what?"

"You just wanted to report on my success, why waste time on exploring my 'habitat'?" 

"Are you well versed in literature, Iwa-chan?" He asked, watching Iwaizumi deadpan at the nickname, continuing before he could argue further about it, "I assumed as much. There is a book that I love, it has been my favourite since I was just a young boy. Do you know what its called?--" he paused for effect, "--'To Kill A Mockingbird'."

"And your point is, Powder Puff?" 

"I'm getting there!" Oikawa huffed, crossing his arms and legs simultaneously, "one of the main characters is a lawyer, a well respected lawyer, the great Atticus Finch!" Oikawa's arms spread wide, making Iwaizumi lean to the side to avoid being hit by a stray limb, "he tells his children that 'you never understand a person until you consider things from his point of view...until you climb in his skin and walk around in it'. I believe this is the tactic I should use with you."


	3. "I Can't Believe You Actually Hit Me!!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note the added tags! 
> 
> Don't worry, it's not a main or side character, it's a character just mentioned in dialogue! 
> 
> I also didn't add a tag for Akaashi's past because I forgot, so now there's a tag of the mentioned past kidnapping! But this tag only counts for that chapter.

Oikawa hadn't expected much when Iwaizumi finally lulled over an answer. There was a lot of things in Iwaizumi's life that were out of bounds to Oikawa, such as his home, he had explicitly stated that Oikawa wasn't allowed to follow him home; or anywhere Iwaizumi didn't beckon him to, for that matter. He was strictly a shadow, silently observing while Iwaizumi was doing his normal daily routines, going about his life like Oikawa didn't exist. 

"Afternoon~" Oikawa cheered, heading into the gym, seeing the group were already hard at work, but this time Kuroo and Bokuto were in the ring and Iwaizumi was nowhere to be seen. 

"Ooh, Tooru! You're back!" Bokuto called out happily, held in a playful headlock by Kuroo, "how did it go with Hajime?" 

"Hasn't he told you?" Oikawa questioned, setting his satchel and coat on a nearby chair, rolling up his sleeves and leaning onto the ropes on his forearms.

"Nope," Bokuto said, being cut off when Kuroo spoke at the same time.

"Haven't seen him since yesterday." 

"Should we be worried if he hasn't shown up?" He tried not to be concerned, but he couldn't help it. These streets were a Martian landscape to him, and even if Iwaizumi knew these streets, it didn't put him at ease. 

"Things happen like this sometimes," Kozume interjected from across the room, exiting a storage room, "people just go missing then come back fine. Or in a body bag." He added quietly. 

"What?" Once again, he couldn't believe what he was hearing, this wasn't just a Martian land to him, this was a completely different galaxy, almost like he'd been through an interdimentional portal when he had crossed the train line. 

A shiver caused by sudden warm air drew both up, and down his spine simultaneously, starting from the base of his neck, he flew round, turning to see Iwaizumi's face close to his, grinning menacingly. 

"You guys are nasty!" Oikawa whined when he realised they'd ganged up on him to trick him, he watched Bokuto and Kuroo laughing quietly and Kozume was zoned out. "Lying to me like that! Jeez--"

"I wasn't lying." Said Kozume, going back to the cupboard, tidying away the stack of towels. Before Oikawa could respond he felt his phone begin vibrating in his pants pocket, he looked at the caller ID. 

"Ugh." He huffed angrily, answering his phone, "hello, Oikawa-san." He greeted curtly, a few seconds passed and a drone of yelling could be heard by the rest of the people around him, "am I not allowed to walk where I would like to go anymore?" His free hand found itself into his pocket, tensing his fist then releasing under the fabric. 

The group exchanged looks and glances as they listened to Oikawa argue with a muffled voice on the other end of the phone. 

"I can go where I want! You have no command over me now!" Oikawa heatedly yelled.

Before he could end the call Kuroo beckoned: "Oi! Tooru! Pass the weed!" His finger slammed over the end call button. Oikawa didn't know if he wanted to laugh or cry.

"How could you, Tetsurou?" He whined, "that was my dad!" 

"Well shit." Bokuto laughed, "now you fucked up!" And Oikawa could agree more, he had fucked up. 

"I know Iwa-chan told me to stay out of his way. But please. Someone fucking fight me." Oikawa said, going over to the ring, five pairs of eyes watched him, once again distracted from the conversation by the new nickname. 

"It won't really be much of a fight, but I've really been wanting to sock you since I first saw you." Iwaizumi obliged, following him to the ring, easily hoisting himself over the ropes, watching Oikawa struggle to climb through them. 

The industrial lights flickered into life, along with rather loud music. And all of a sudden Oikawa felt tiny, regretting his decision when he saw how serious Iwaizumi was looking, the short difference in height doing nothing to make Oikawa feel confident. How could he when he was stood opposite someone almost twice his shoulder width of pure muscle? He felt like a two axel car going up against an eight axel truck. 

"Good luck, Tooru!" Bokuto called.

"Huh? Wait, he's seriously gonna fight me?" Oikawa rambled.

"Hell yeah he is, and we should also tell you he's a slugger!" Kuroo shouted.

"A what?" 

"A slugger is a fighter whom prefers close combat." Akaashi explained, "in boxing there are different fighting styles, often it depends on where the boxer is from, but obviously its not exclusively divided this way. Both Tetsurou and Koutarou have longer arms and are taller, this means manuveurs are easier for then to pull off than Iwaizumi, his fighting style is staying stood in a sturdy position and using his power to overwhelm his opponent." 

"Shit." 

 

A damp cold covered Oikawa's face, rousing him from his currently black surroundings. He fought to open his eyes, glancing round at the faces around him, he vaguely noted that Kozume was pressing a towel to his cheek; so that was the wet sensation. Kuroo was grinning just in his field of vision, situated just behind Kozume. 

"Hey there, sunshine." Kuroo cackled, earning a slap on his arm from Kozume. 

"Whoa! I can't believe he actually hit him!" Bokuto yelled, his voice betraying how excited he was versus how concerned he should've sounded. Oikawa rolled his eyes to see Akaashi and Bokuto fussing to his left, and he looked up to see Iwaizumi's deadpan expression once again. A dull pain filtered into the side of his face as he made eye contact with Iwaizumi. 

"I can't believe you actually hit me!!" Oikawa screamed, sitting up, holding the compress to his cheek.

"You said you wanted a fight." Iwaizumi said, stuffing his hands into his pocket, "who am I to deny you what you deserve?" Oikawa pouted. He really disliked this smug boxer. 

"I think you should go home and rest, Tooru." Akaashi suggested. 

"Yeah, Hajime's punches are no laughing matter; they're crazy powerful." Bokuto finished, "you're gonna get one hell of a shiner!" Oikawa considered his options, glancing at the time. 

"I should probably go back to the office. It'll be the peak of crunch time by the time I get there." 

"Hajime can walk you there," Kuroo sniggered, "especially seeing as he's the one who did this to you." Iwaizumi's face twisted in disgust at the thought of being in the same room as a bunch of tabloid reporters, but then he paused, remembering his and Oikawa's conversation the night before, recalling the famous quote by 'the great Atticus Finch' that he'd talked so highly about. He could only try, right? 

"Fine, hurry up, Shittykawa, get your things." Oikawa acknowledged the secret acceptance from Iwaizumi, shrugging on his coat and collecting his satchel. Noting how light it was. 

"Where's my camera?!" 

"Ah, sorry!" Bokuto called, handing it to Oikawa, "we were messing about, its not broken, honestly." And of course by 'we' he'd meant Kuroo and himself, as he turned on the camera he was satisfied that it was still in working order. Then he saw the photos. 

There were a lot of different shots, awkwardly taken selfies, due to the size of the lense, of Bokuto and Kuroo, Akaashi and Kozume appearing in the background of some of them, then there were pictures of Iwaizumi in the ring facing off against him, even a few of the swift right hook that ended it all, freeze frames of the impact and then his own with the floor. 

Telling him the story of his already bruising left cheek and showing him that, yes, Iwaizumi's punches were no laughing matter. He turned off the camera, flicking his tongue against the inside of his cheek, first checking for the taste of blood, the sting of an oncoming welt, or even a missing or wobbly tooth. Satisfied that his mouth was fine he placed his camera into his bag and ran to meet with the man waiting by the gym doors. 

 

The walk to the printing room would normally take Oikawa twenty minutes or less from the gym, but he noticed Iwaizumi's pace was slower than his own; was it due to their height difference? Was he just imagining it because Iwaizumi was a couple centimetres smaller? He observed, watching Iwaizumi's every move, his hunched shoulders and slightly awkward gait. Was he hurt?

"Hey, urm, Iwa-chan?" A grunt was all he got as acknowledgement, then moss green eyes locked onto his.

"What do you want?" 

"Is your leg okay?" He asked, fully prepared for the chewing up he could get by trying to get information from Iwaizumi, especially personal information. 

"Yeah. Old injury." Was he reply, Oikawa had to bite his tongue to refrain from saying something like: 'its obviously not that old if its still causing you trouble.' 

"I see, from boxing?" 

"Why should I tell you, Powder Puff?" Iwaizumi questioned, "besides, if I'm gonna tell you something then you better be prepared to give me something back." 

"So if I tell you something you'll let me do the article?" Oikawa grinned, skipping in front of him and turning to face him, now walking backwards.

"As long as its one hundred percent the truth. Maybe." Their eye contact broke, Iwaizumi facing away from him, "that's what Atticus Finch would do, right?" Oikawa nearly fainted on the spot. 

"Y- Yes, he probably would." He stuttered, "so, will you tell me what happened?" 

"It's not interesting."

"Everything with you is interesting. Oh! I know, what if I guess? You gotta own up if I guess right!" 

"Fine, whatever you want." Iwaizumi's hands shoved into his pockets as he watched the reporter's mind tick away with ideas and far fetched stories that would probably be rather close to the truth.

Oikawa had the perfect story, just as Iwaizumi thought he would. 

"So, you were minding your own business when some gangland trigger happy guys shot you!" 

"Not far off." He hummed, watching Oikawa's mouth drop, "it was Tetsurou, actually."

"Wait what?!" 

"Yeah, that shit from the gym, Tetsurou. He was in a gang with Kenma, Neither of them were there by free will, mind you. It was Tetsurou who was born into it, heir to the gang's future, Kenma was dragged in by his prostitute mum. Tetsurou had been coming to the gym regularily since I was twelve, then one day he dragged in some whimpy kid with bad hair and bruises and welts littering his body. That was just five months ago, actually." 

"Are they still in the gang?" 

"Nope, they went rogue after Kenma's mum committed suicide. There was nothing tying Tetsurou to the gang other than his status that he didn't want, the only thing tethering Kenma was his mum." 

"Holy hell, I never would've thought that." 

"Your turn."

"Huh?" He squeaked, "my turn? My turn for what? You better not be planning to shoot me!" This made Iwaizumi laugh, actually laugh, and Oikawa sworn he nearly had a heart attack.

"Damn, you got me," he said with so much sarcasm that it stung, "I mean I told you that, so I want to ask you something." 

"Oh, go on, I guess."


	4. "Help Me! Tooru Is Trying To Steal My Food!!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New tags added

The rest of the walk passed quickly, far too quickly for Oikawa's liking, he watched as Iwaizumi tensed as they approached the printing building. 

"So why do you hate journalists so much?" Oikawa slapped his hands over his mouth, not realising the question until it was already in the air between them. 

"They destroyed someone important to me." Iwaizumi said dryly, he side eyed Oikawa warily, "how could I ever trust someone who did that? Anyone who did that on a daily basis?" The reporter simply watched, he had seriously misjudged the man in front of him. All this time he thought he was awkward, hard headed and mean, he had thought that he honestly had an awful personality. But he was hurting, human and hurting. 

"Afternoon, Tooru!" An angelic voice called out, startling the two men. 

"I better go." Iwaizumi said, quickly turning on his heels, retreating into his ironic safety; the farthest place from safety. 

"Koushi, why?" He heard Oikawa whine childishly as he walked away. 

 

"So--" Sugawara started, taking a large mouthful of his instant ramen, "--who was he?" He asked around his food, eying Oikawa, noticing his reluctance to turn his head to the right. "Oh, he's back!" He called, waving to the empty window, watching as Oikawa's gaze flashed to the window. "Ohmigawd what happened to your face?!" 

"Ah. Funny story actually." He reached to his tender cheek, side eying the silver haired man who'd just tricked him, "I don't know why Daichi likes you, you're manipulative and cruel." He quipped, pouting.

"Maybe that's why he likes me~" Sugawara laughed, causing Oikawa's face to turn the oddest shade of purple, even the tips of his ears not escaping the heated blush.

"I don't want to know!" Oikawa cried, watching as Sugawara breezily continued on his noodles. "Gimme some." 

"No, get your own!" Oikawa lunged at the food, grasping for it with his hands, Sugawara simply fell backwards onto the wooden table he was sat on, holding the box firmly out of Oikawa's grasp. 

"Don't be stingy!"

"But its my food!" 

"How old are you both?" Sawamura questioned, looking down at the pair sprawled onto the table in the dining room. 

"Daichi!" Sugawara yelped, "help me! Tooru is trying to steal my food!" 

"Oh dear, that's no good." He said, simply plucking the ramen box from Sugawara's hand, the two men still locked together and watching as he started to finish off the food. Oikawa gasped.

"How could you love someone who steals your food?" The editor laughed in amusement at Oikawa's mock offense. However, their attention shifted somewhat to the canteen radio, the station it was tuned to bringing the highlights of an upcoming sell-out boxing match. 

"Is that your guy?" Sawamura questioned, looking at Oikawa, his eyes met his manager's as he cocked his head to listen to the radio better, the host was yelling out the details of the fight, what channel it would be on for those who couldn't get tickets, then the details of each fighter. Sure enough, Iwaizumi was 'the up-and-coming rookie', the one who had the misfortune of fighting the 'runner up and favourite' Ushijima Wakatoshi. 

"That's him alright..." Oikawa exhaled, "the up-and-coming rookie." 

The doors being pushed open made the trio jump and Oikawa almost screamed at the intruder for being louder than the radio, however, he didn't. He stopped dead in his tracks. 

"Oikawa-san," a clipped voice spoke out, "Oikawa-sama wishes to speak to you. Please, follow me." Sawamura and Sugawara glaced at one another then at Oikawa, both equally confused as to why the family's chaperone was in their work place. Oikawa had an almost melancholic stare, sharing it only with his two friends before following the well dressed man to a waiting car outside. 

 

The ride to his father's office was arduous and strained at best, the tension in the vehicle so thick it could've been cut with a knife.

"What's this about?" Oikawa questioned, disliking the secrecy and formality after working with open, charming people; as well as a brute and his motley crew for so long. For being free for so long.

"I cannot answer your questions." Oikawa huffed in annoyance and sank down into his seat, arms folded and right leg crossed over his left. The five minute car journey felt like fifty years to Oikawa, well, maybe fifty minutes, fifty years was a bit too much of an exaggeration, although Matssun and Makki would probably pull the "its been eighty-four years" meme from the situation. Oikawa stewed. 

As soon as the car pulled up to the pavement outside the office block, Oikawa was out, his fists balled to his sides as he crossed into the main lobby, his stride wide and tempered, feeling white hot pain in his chest. He wanted to scream. To fight. Anything. 

He decided taking the lift would be too easy, he wanted to walk and let his anger keep growing and growing until he exploded with the rage he held against his father, not stand in a lift awkwardly until the top floor. As he approached the office doors, he didn't slow like he normally would, nor did he knock. He wasn't going to back down, no way, so instead of politely knocking, he threw the doors open animatedly, already inside the room and before they had fully opened. But he wasn't prepared for the sight that befell his eyes.

"What's this?" He growled, even though his anger was tapering out, his eyes flashing from his father at his desk and the person reclining in the chair on the opposite side.

"Ah, Tooru." His father responded, ignoring his son's question. 

"I asked a question," Oikawa replied dryly, "answer it." He demanded. 

"This is Nanako. She is the daughter of a well respected man in my line of work. To put it simply, he and myself have both decided to arrange yours and Nanako's wedding--" he leaned forward on his desk, elbows set apart and his chin resting on his hands, "--for the good of the company." 

"And what if I refuse?" Oikawa spat. 

"You're my son, its your obligation to do as I say." 

"I'm just your son when it's convenient to you. Seeing as my mother was just a mistress for you." 

"Do not bring that mistake up in front of our guest!" His father roared. 

"Then tell me where she was buried!!" He screamed in return, "she is not just 'that mistake'!! She is my mother!"

"Where is your respect?!" His father yelled, raising his hand to his son's face and striking him, "I have supported your stupid journalism, now you owe me your services." Oikawa watched as Nanako shrunk back in her seat.

"This 'stupid journalism' taught me that you have done nothing for me, I now have answers to the endless questions. I'm done pretending, I'm done sitting here and hoping you might see it my way. No more waiting for the day I could make my own choice!" Oikawa left no room for his father to interject, he dismantled his insecurities caused by his father, his new-found energy and courage fuelled by the brave fighter he'd met in the slums. 

"Watch as things go my way! I'll never be looking back anymore!" He threw his arms out wide and then pointed at his father, as if to challenge the older man before him, "I'm blaming you for everything!" His voice turned dark, dripping with spite and venom, "I have no father." He spat as he turned on his heels swiftly. Fleeing from the room with a flash of energy and relief flooding over him. He was free of his skeletons hiding in the closet of his heart, but he had also just lost everything he knew, he was homeless and on a barely liveable wage. 

There was no way he could trouble Sugawara and Sawamura with putting him up for God knows how long. Then he remembered what Akaashi had told him, and the sentiment the others at the gym shared, he could always see if their Uncle could become his too. He started in that direction, his legs carrying him despite how drained he felt.


	5. "You Don't Put Pineapple On Pizza!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for the lack of updates, my health has been throwing me curve balls since I finished university. However I think I'm going to throw the schedule out the window and just update when I can, which should hopefully be more often now I've finished university

There was a gentle bass sound emanating from inside the gym, the sound echoing through his chest as he passed the first threshhold, the beat growing louder. He parted second set doors and silently walked inside, not disturbing the heated practice between Kuroo and Bokuto, opting to approach Kozume instead.

"Hey," Kozume said, his eyes not leaving the ring.

"Hey, Kenma..." 

"How come you're back so soon?" He asked, looking up at Oikawa, his golden eyes gauging him, "is everything alright?" It felt like Kozume was reading him like a book.

"Honestly? No, its not okay," Oikawa whispered, his voice getting weaker with each syllable, finally breaking into a sob at the last word. This took the younger man by surprise and he continued to watch as the stray tears fell down Oikawa's face. 

Kozume silently grabbed Oikawa's sleeve, tugging him gently towards the door that Iwaizumi disappeared into so many times before. Behind it was a simple, but private changing room, he blinked in confusion before registering what Kozume was doing. 

"I," Kozume started, sitting on the bench to the side, "I don't know about you, but when I'm sad I like to be in private. I can go if you want, or I could stay, I could even get Uncle." 

"Thank you, Kenma," Oikawa sniffed, wiping his nose on his coat, much to Kozume's disgust, he passed Oikawa a wad of tissue, "I'll be fine, it's just been a rough day." 

"Do you need to talk about it?" Oikawa thought, he didn't want to, but experience told him that it would be wise if he did. 

"Where do I start?" He scoffed, "I got punched by Hajime, Koushi wouldn't give me food, Daichi stole Koushi's food, my father- Oikawa-san tried to marry me off then I disowned myself from my family." Oikawa paused to take in a deep, shuddering breath. 

A thunderous crash sounded off as Kuroo, Bokuto, and Iwaizumi all flew into the changing room as Oikawa said 'I disowned myself from my family', the three looking up at him in shock at the revelation, much to Kozume's annoyance, Akaashi also stood at the doorway, staring at them disapprovingly.

"Was that my fault?" Kuroo whispered, almost apologetically.

"No, our relationship has always been strained, especially since my mother passed." 

"So does that mean you're homeless now?" Bokuto asked, a sorrowful look on his face. 

"Of course it doesn't," came the reply from the least likely person, "Tooru will obviously get taken in by Uncle, just like all of us before him." 

"Iwa-chan..." 

"He's right, you know," the Uncle's quiet and strong voice declared as he entered the room, he set his hand on Oikawa's shoulder, "I always have a place for someone who needs it." Oikawa hiccupped another sob.

"Thank you," he quietly muttered as the Uncle looked at the watch on his wrist.

"Alright, I'm closing up." He grumbled, "you all get changed, we're having a welcome party for our newest family member, who can invite a couple friends if he wants to." He left the room, leaving the six of them there, three in training uniforms, the other three sat on the benches. 

"Do you have any friends?" Kuroo asked, taking off his shirt and drying his upper body off, not realising how awful it sounded until it was already out there. 

"Rude! Of course I do--" Oikawa cut out, looking up from his phone after texting Sugawara, Sawamura, Matsukawa and Hanamaki, his eyes accidentally landing on the half naked Iwaizumi on the other side of the room, "--fuck." He said out loud, making Kozume to his left snort and Akaashi to his right chuckle. 

Nobody failed to notice the tips of Iwaizumi's ears going red, even with his face turned away from them all. 

 

And that was how Oikawa unintentionally found out where Iwaizumi lived, despite explicit instructions. As it turns out, the Uncle was the owner of an old, disused hostel a few blocks from the gym, the outside was rundown but the inside was cozy. 

Oikawa waited outside, waiting for his quartet of friends to bring his things from his old apartment, just his clothes and a few of his treasures, nothing more, then again, that was all he needed. He had already been given a grand tour, there were ten bedrooms down a long corridor, some single, some double, but they all had en suite toilets and showers, at the end of the corridor was a communal bath. On the other side of the building, there were two communal kitchens and a large dining room between the two, as well as a large communal sitting room behind that. 

It was just getting dark as he saw Sawamura's car rounding the corner, pulling up beside him. He almost fell over as Sugawara bounded out the car and latched onto him, asking if he was okay and demanding answers to what was going on.

"We boxed your stuff," Sawamura said, getting out his car and opening the boot. Hanamaki and Matsukawa were already grabbing boxes and dashing inside, racing each other to get onto Oikawa's bedroom first. 

"Thank you for your help," Oikawa said, so grateful for the people in his life, he grabbed a box, leading Sawamura and Sugawara into his room as they carried the remaining two boxes, next would be introductions. 

He regrouped minutes later, finding Hanamaki and Matsukawa were already hounding the boxers.

"I want to thank you all for your help throughout my life, especially today in my hour of need. I also want to apologise in advance for anything my cretin friends do." He then followed by introducing his quartet from his world to the quintet of this world, pausing to look around the room in awe of his friends. 

Yeah, it felt right calling them that. The party began and everything was perfect, for the first time in his life he was content. 

Shortly into the party, pizza was delivered, a mass of pizza. Honestly, Oikawa had never seen so much, but it didn't seem to last long in a group of ten hungry men. 

"You don't put pineapple on pizza!" He heard Bokuto and Kuroo yell, followed by Hanamaki and Matsukawa arguing back.

"Yes you do! Its Hawaiian!!" 

"You posh people are monsters!" 

"Well what would you put on it?" Hanamaki quipped, pressing his hand onto his hip like the sassy meme queen he was. 

"Meat!"

"Fish!" Bokuto and Kuroo both yelled simultaneously, looking at one another with a scowl. 

"You just like fish because you meat scramble game is weak as fuck!" Bokuto accused. 

"Well maybe if you had some more Docosahexanoic Acid - which aids brain development, might I add - then your brain might develop into double digit cells!" 

"Old fish fart!" 

"Meat head!" 

"Girls, girls, you're both pretty," Matsukawa stated flatly, stepping between them, earning a laugh from Hanamaki and scowls from Bokuto and Kuroo. 

Oikawa laughed, his eyes drawing around the room, Kozume was sitting on the chair in the corner, presumeably playing a game on his phone, and Sugawara, Sawamura and Akaashi were mingling to his right. 

He happened to overhear the conversation, deducing that Sugawara and Akaashi were aquaintances, and that made him happy, it also made him happy to think of how happy Sugawara must feel to see Akaashi again.

 

The party began to peter out a little after midnight, which was early by standards of a party, but they were all busy, working adults. 

Kozume was already asleep on his chair in the corner and soon after Kuroo caught wind, whisking the younger man to their room to retire for the night. 

Sugawara and Sawamura were next, they had to get back for work in the morning, they were also Hanamaki and Matsukawa's ride home, so they left too. 

Pretty soon Akaashi excused himself, Bokuto following closely on his heels, he hadn't seen Iwaizumi or Uncle all night anyway, and so, just like that, Oikawa was left to his own thoughts; a notably dangerous mix given the events of the day. 

His phone screen lit up at two thirty in the morning, drawing his attention to his half sister's ID. Flicking his phone open he read the simple message 'Tokirai Cemetary'. 

Once again he had tears down his face as he replied with a quick thank you. 

He could see her again. 

He snuck to his room, grabbing his coat from the rack and sneaking out the building, rushing down the street, not seeing the man observing him from the roof.


	6. "--I Found Her."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New tag added! 
> 
> Thank you to @LabradoriteHeart and @Mooifyourecows for helping me get my confidence and motivation back! 
> 
> You guys should definitely give their stories a go if you like Death Note and Haikyuu!!

The cemetary was a ten minute walk from the hostel, but by the time everyone had settled to bed it was already two in the morning, and now it was quarter to three. 

A low mist hung over the floor, and licked around his legs as he went inside. Despite it now being the early hours of the morning, the cemetary was anything but scary, unnerving; yes, but not scary, just like the thought of finally seeing his mother. 

He could finally see her again. Although, he didn't know what grave was hers. 

He tried to think logically, looking for where the newer graves were, it had been twenty years, so it was a starting point to work his way back. 

"What are you doing in the cemetary at three in the morning?" Came a gruff question, making Oikawa jump and a small yelp leave his lips, he spun round to face the assailant. 

"Iwa-chan!" 

"Answer my question." 

"I, urm, I wanted to see my mum." Oikawa looked away, unable to maintain eye contact out of fear he'd show his weakness, "my father kept her burial site a secret, my half-sister has told me the cemetary last night..." 

"Jeez, what the hell? That Uncle really is something else." 

"Huh? What does he have anything to do with this?" He eyes drew to the bag in Iwaizumi's hand, cocking his eyebrow in question. 

"He gave this and to me to give it to you when I found you. I wonder if he's an empath." Iwaizumi passed the bag to Oikawa who in turn looked inside. A small bouquet of roses, a candle and incence, there was also an envelope with his name on it, he read the letter inside aloud.

"'You can't go to see a pretty lady without some flowers'." He smiles at the letter, "he's like magic," he felt his eyes welling up once more, blinking furiously to banish the tears before they could fall.

"Personally I think its creepy how good he is at this." Iwaizumi smiled and Oikawa scoffed in return, turning to the graves to locate his mother's engraved name.

"You're going to tell me everything, Tooru." Iwaizumi was scowling, but he seemed more concerned than angry, the use of his first name instead of an insult made Oikawa find it harder not to cry again. He took a shaky sigh.

"My mother worked at my father's business, he used that she loved him to have an affair, even though he was married and had just had his first female child. I was born from the affair, she died giving birth to me and I was passed straight to him."

"But you said it all changed after your mother died," Iwaizumi said, watching Oikawa's movement between graves, looking with him without really knowing what he was looking for, well he supposed he had dates to work with. 

"Yeah, for him. I was the result of a secret affair, his secret was out, his family knew and I was the bastard child pawned off onto any childminder who would take me while he was at work. It would hurt his reputation to put me up for adoption, so his wife left him and took his daughter with her, and I was left to feel his wrath, he made sure that I absolutely knew it was all my fault and he regularily told me the story--" he cut out, drawing Iwaizumi's attention, "--I found her." 

He kneeled in front of a grave, resting his hand on the grey marble headstone, there was even a coloured picture engraved into the marble next to her name, he had her eyes and nose shape, even her hair was the same moussey brown as his, he always thought he looked like his father, but now he could see where his features truly came from; his mother. 

His tears were freely escaping now, loud sobs racking his body. Iwaizumi stood at a distance, not wanting to interupt the reunion. 

He watched as Oikawa cleaned the grave with his bare hands, dusting away dirt and leaves. He arranged the flowers in the central pot, removing wilted ones that oddly enough were the same flowers he had been given, wondering briefly if he would ever see his mother's family. 

Would they try to find him when they saw the flowers on the grave?

He lit the incence, and the candle, sending a prayer with his apologies for not coming sooner, he prayed that she wouldn't be angry, or hate him. He then prayed to meet her family so he could apologise for taking their daughter, sister, niece, granddaughter, cousin away from them all. 

No matter how he saw it, it was his fault; if he hadn't have been born then she would still be here. He didn't know if he was echoing the sentiment his father had instilled into him all these years, or if it was truly his fault, but he felt like it was, and that was enough to make him apologise. 

A thin drizzle began falling, shouding them in mist, Iwaizumi gave him a full hour of kneeling in silence before joining him, resting his hand on his shoulder. 

"Tooru," his touch and voice were gentle, "I think we should head back now. You know where she is now, you can come every day, I'll even join you if it helps. But its almost dawn, this rain is getting heavier and you're going to catch a cold." 

"You're right, Hajime." It felt foreign to say his name that way, as if Iwaizumi's words had brought him back into reality,p. 

He felt the rain, he felt the cold, his knees were soaked from kneeling, the candle long since put out by the steady rain, the incence still gently smoking but less than before.

Iwaizumi offered him a hand and he took it, using it to pull himself to his feet, they trudged through the mud to get back onto the cemetary path, Oikawa still wrapping two of his fingers into Iwaizumi's, Iwaizumi not drawing away if Oikawa saw it as a comfort. 

 

The pair made their way through the darkened streets of the slums, a pre-dawn twilight filtering over the horizon where the clouds were beginning to shift from the East to the West, the rain starting to ease. 

"I'm having a day off." Iwaizumi grumbled tiredly, curse this reporter and his emotions. 

Curse himself and his own emotions.

"I don't blame you," Oikawa agreed, "today is my day off anyway, thank God." Silence returned to them as they walked, but Oikawa noted a lack of awkwardness that was present in their first time alone together. This time Oikawa relished in it. 

"Well, maybe in time I can tell you more about myself," Iwaizumi muttered as they rounded the corner of the hostel, "I already found out a lot about you, warts 'n' all." 

"I'm flattered," was Oikawa's reply, "it means you trust me enough to tell me. Before, you wouldn't even think about denying me access to you life, I wonder what has changed." He looked Iwaizumi in the eye, playfully cocking his head in mock observation. 

He noted that the distance between Iwaizumi and himself was fleeting, then disappeared, there was a soft, warm pressure on his lips and before he knew what was happening, what had happened, Iwaizumi was walking away into the building at a quick pace.

"Go get a warm shower, Shittykawa, before you get sick," he said hurriedly, "plus you stink." He added for good measure. Good one, Hajime. 

"Wait!" Oikawa called, his mind trying to piece together what had just transpired, he wasn't surprised to find that Iwaizumi had already vacated the street into the hostel, not looking back to the man who'd called for him. 

His heart was pounding, his legs felt weak. 

He needed advice, so he went into the hostel, looking for the small two-tone haired boy whom he had guessed had been in a similar situation to himself at one point. 

"Is eveything okay, Tooru?" The Uncle asked, appearing, seemingly from nowhere, in his line of vision. 

"A- Ah," Oikawa stumbled, "I was looking for Kenma." 

"His room is number 5," the Uncle smiled, "try in there." 

"Thanks Uncle," Oikawa replied, missing the look he received from the older man, "thank you for the other stuff too." He quickly added to the end, hugging the older man, "it's like magic that you knew..." 

"It's actually something much more mundane, see if you can figure it out with that reporter's sniffer of yours." The Uncle laughed, tapping his nose before walking away. "I'm proud of you, Mr. Reporter." 

The interaction had made his mind start turning, working, retracing his steps, his conversations, the flowers that were the same as the ones wilted on the grave, the Uncle's loving gaze, that looked just like his mother's; like his.

"Wait!" Oikawa called for the second time of the day, "who are you?" 

"Wow! That was fast!" The Uncle cheerily laughed, turning round, but he had tears in his eyes, "just like your mother, she never missed a beat either. It must be that journalism." 

"You knew my mother?" 

"Knew her?" The Uncle looked down, "she was- is my sister, she is my younger sister, by seven years." The world felt like it was falling apart, yet being stuck back together all at the same time. 

There were tears in both their eyes, and for once it wasn't Oikawa's that spilled first, but not by much time. He choked on a sob as he held onto the Uncle tightly, buring his head against him. 

"I'm sorry." He whispered between sobs, "I'm sorry." If he'd never been born, she would still be here. He took this man's sister away, "if I had never been born--"

"Tooru," the Uncle silenced him, placing his hand on his head, running his fingers through his hair, he let out a soft scoff, "just like mine, when I had it." 

His tone turned serious, but nowhere near angry. It was difficult to place an emotion in that voice, there were so many, "I never thought I would ever see you again. I saw you once in the hospital before your father took you away from me, from us. And none of us hate you, blame you, or believe you were the reason she died, if anything it was your father's fault, he knew she was not strong enough, yet he still didn't take the necessary steps to protect her." He wiped Oikawa's eyes before his own.

"Come, I want to show you something." He took his hand, guiding him up a flight of stairs, it grew colder as they went up and then out the a door into the blinding light of the rising sun. Oikawa had never expected to find such beauty in the slums of the city, then again, there is a famous saying about a diamond in the rough. 

Before him was a breathtaking rooftop garden, the door opened onto a concrete slab, presumably the building's roof. 

There was a small table and chairs on the concrete slab, but the rest of the roof was covered in lushious, green grass, wet from the rain and decorated in crystals of water, there were small shrubs and rose bushes growing from pots positioned neatly along the rooftop, and then there was a large koi pond to the far corner, it was amazing to think this was the roof of a hostel, in a slum city. 

"It's...amazing!" Oikawa was at a lose for words, a grin on his face, his tears and sadness long forgotten. 

"It was your mother's dream, she started shortly after she found out she was pregnant with you, she wanted you to have a green space you could grow in, keep safe in, and learn in. After she passed I continued to maintain it, I prayed to her that I would one day get to show you. This is her legacy to you." 

"I also prayed I could meet her family, my family..." 

"Looks like she's still looking after you." He said, hugging one arm around Oikawa, gently squeezing.

"I want to look after her legacy to me, alongside you, if that's okay." 

"Of course it is!"


	7. "Shit."

It was quiet when Oikawa woke up and he felt around for his phone, grasping it on the bedside table, the clock on the device reading 19:24. 

"Holy shit!" He cried, thinking of how he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep again after the power nap that turned into a ten hour sleep. 

That's right, he had started to get a headache around nine in the morning and was ushered to bed by his Uncle as everyone other than Iwaizumi began to emerge. He began to remember what had happened over the previous days, his mind resting on one thing he didn't have an answer for; that kiss. 

His hands came to cover his face, his neck, cheeks and ears burning at the memory. A gentle knocking on his door broke his thought process.

"Come in," He groaned almost too quickly and too quietly, rubbing his hands down his face. The door opened and Kozume edged his way inside, "oh, Kenma." 

"Hey Tooru," came Kozume's reply as he shut the door, "Uncle told me you were asking after me." 

"Oh, yeah," he looked down, not making eye contact, Kozume doing the same as he sat on the edge of the bed, "I just wanted to talk to you, I appreciate what you did for me yesterday."

"Ah, don't mention it, someone has to save your dignity." He smiled playfully, making Oikawa smile too, and almost laugh.

"Hajime did something to me, and I don't know what to make of it." Kozume's eyes watched him unjudgingly, and he looked like he already knew what was coming.

"Expand."

"He kissed me, it was only quick, it was when we were walking from the cemetary. But then he walked off." Oikawa felt his face heating up again at the blank gaze that was studying him.

"Why were you at the cemetary?" 

"I went to see my mum, he followed me though, it was three in the morning." 

"I see. So you're stuggling to figure out why he did it?" Kozume supplied.

"Yeah." 

"Well, Tetsurou kisses me for comfort, if I have a nightmare it's to reassure me, if I feel sad it's to make me happy." Kozume explained, "he's always kissed me since we began dating before we left the gang." 

"So it could've been because I was upset after visiting my mum for the first time?" 

"It could be, why not just ask him?" He raised an eyebrow, watching Oikawa, "Uncle also told me to tell you dinner is ready." Oikawa smiled, his stomach voicing its sudden need for food.

"I can't wait!" He cheered, getting out of bed and stretching, reaching towards the ceiling. Kozume also stood up and the pair made their way into the dining room.

 

Dinner was more than what he expected, it was all home made, and it was a banquet. 

His eyes scanned over the table, it was incredibly well balanced, the main carbohydrate being rice, next there were a lot of food that was high in protein like fish, meat and tofu, all garnished with vegetables and salads, his Uncle and Akaashi both finishing the final preparations. 

"Good evening, Tooru, Kenma." Akaashi greeted, setting seven bowls around the main table where the food was arranged in the center. 

"Evening, Keiji, the food looks good." Kozume praised, sitting down in his usual chair. 

"Good evening," Oikawa muttered, sitting down in the seat to Kozume's left, he wondered if his Uncle would sit to his own left at the head of the table. Kuroo and Bokuto bounded into the dining room from the living space, both wrestling to get to their seats first. Kuroo won, taking his seat to Kenma's right.

"No fair! Keiji! Tell him its not fair!" Bokuto whined, "he had less distance to cover!" 

"Nobody likes a sore loser, Koutarou~" Kuroo crooned, cackling wickedly. 

Oikawa noticed how Kozume looked and Kuroo, utter adoration in his eyes, a smile playing on his lips, and his thought instantly diverged to what if he could look at Iwaizumi like that? 

His thoughts were brought under control by Akaashi sat opposite Kozume, and the way he kissed Bokuto who was opposite Kuroo. But it was only momentary solace.

"Holy shit." He said out loud, making the other four look up at him with confusion and questioning glances.

"Everything okay?" Bokuto raise his voice first, leaning on his elbows on the table and craning his neck to see him properly.

"I want that with Hajime." He said with no restraint, covering his mouth quickly. Because there it was, his biggest mistake, because Iwaizumi was now taking his seat opposite him, walking in at the most opportune moment to hear his confession. "Shit." 

The room went quiet, deathly quiet. Oikawa wished that he could die right at that moment, but the other man simply sat down opposite him, not making eye contact yet maintaining an air of confidence. The Uncle was the final person to sit down, at the head of the table like Oikawa presumed, then he began a toast.

"To two of my boys, smash it tomorrow." He raised his glass, making eye contact with Kuroo and Bokuto. 

"What's tomorrow?" Oikawa asked, looking at his Uncle. 

"First quarter final boxing match, Tetsurou vs. Koutarou." 

"And I'm gonna pound you into the ground!" Bokuto shouted excitedly, standing in his position and looking Kuroo dead in the eye. Earning the scruffy haired man to do the same.

"Bring it!" Bickering and banter continued across the table throughout the dinner and Oikawa was glad that the attention has shifted from the his half baked confession to the two rowdy boxers at the end of the table. 

But as if fate was working against him, his phone began blaring in his pocket, making everyone look up at him, nobody had called him since the incident with his dad. And sure enough the unnamed number had him reeling. 

"Hello, Oikawa-san," he said coldly as he stood from his seat, earning glances from the group of men as he left the room, "to what do I owe the pleasure?" 

"You ungrateful wretch." His father spat venomously, "how dare you go to reporters and reveal your illegitamacy." 

"You're crazy. As if I would do that." 

"Well it's in all the tabloids. That's all you reporters do, destroy lives." He yelled angrily into the receiver, and the words stung more than they would've if Iwaizumi hadn't said the same a few days before.

"Well it wasn't me, I've already ruined your life, remember? I have no idea what you're talking about, so goodbye, delete my number. I've deleted yours." Oikawa returned the venom in his final words, ending the call and returning to the dining room. 

It was then that he saw what his father had meant. 

While he had been gone the newspaper had been delivered, in his Iwaizumi's hands sat the tabloid, a blown up photo of him on the front nursing his swollen and bruised cheek, clearly edited to take up more of his face than it really did and the headline was even worse: "Leading Accountant Firm Boss Abuses Illegitimate Son". 

Oikawa was suddenly off his food. 

"Shit." 

 

That night he couldn't sleep, various reasons stealing his rest, while Kuroo and Bokuto had retired early ready for their fight the following day. 

Akaashi and Kozume had followed them and while the two couples slept, probably in an array of arms and tangled legs, Oikawa was alone with his thoughts, he hadn't seen Iwaizumi since dinner either. 

He lay on the grassy roof, gazing at the starry sky above him, wishing he didn't feel as alone as he did right now. 

His fingers played with the blades of grass, stroking them and twirling them in his grasp, footsteps being the only sound to make him aware that he was not alone. He lifted his head backwards, seeing the upside-down Iwaizumi looking down at him. 

"What are you doing?" He asked gruffly, walking closer and sitting beside him, legs crossed. 

"I feel a million miles away." 

"The hell? Have you been smoking shit?" 

"No!" Oikawa pouted, sitting up quickly, "I just...a lot has happened and it's hard." 

"I understand." 

"Thank you," Oikawa started, "when I could only see the floor, you made me a door. You made me strong enough to finally stand up against my father, and in a way you've become a part of me. You're the only one who knows who I really am." 

He felt a warm hand rest above his own cooled one, before he hadn't been making eye contact with the man before him, but this made his gaze rise to Iwaizumi's. 

"We sure do have a strange chemistry," Iwaizumi added, looking up to the sky, "you've affected me a lot too. It's scary, but I want to see where it will take me." 

Oikawa could see the smallest hints of blush on the man's cheeks and ears, and it made his heart beat loudly and defiantly in his chest. 

"What a difference a few days make..." Oikawa mumbled, "I swore you hated me."

"I was scared," Iwaizumi admitted, looking to the floor, "I've never met anyone like you." 

"I feel lonely, Hajime. I'm scared." His fingers laced tightly into Iwaizumi's automatically, revealing just how afraid he was.

"I'll protect you." Iwaizumi said, lifting their hands to his lips and lightly kissing Oikawa's knuckles, "I'll keep you safe." 

He pulled Oikawa to his feet, interlocking their fingers and heading inside, determined to stop the man with always perfect hair from getting ill from the chilly nights. 

They walked in silence, settling onto the couch in the living space, the TV was on low, mere background noise, and soon light conversation died down and the pair fell into a restful sleep.


	8. "Hey, Tooru, your gay is showing."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay in posting, my health took another bad turn. 
> 
> And this chapter is a little bit dubious so my confidence was sorta limited. 
> 
> I apologise to those who love Daishou, I'll explain further in the end notes ;^; 
> 
> As I always warn people when the tags change, here is your warning: there is a scene in the last 2/3 of the chapter which has a character's drink get spiked. 
> 
> So if that makes anyone uncomfortable then please skip, I'll do a quick summary in the notes at the end.

The arena was filling fast with people. Oikawa had never been to a boxing match before and here he was, in the changing rooms while two of his friends and make-shift family were kitting out to go against one another. 

His eyes were drawn to Kuroo's back as he changed, he had never saw the man's back before, even during practice sparring they wore shirts, and the only other time he had been present when Kuroo was changing he had been distracted by Iwaizumi across the room. 

But now he could see the cunning man's back, and he didn't know what to make of the large tattoos draped along his shoulders and onto his biceps, the dragon going down his spine and its tail curling around to his front reminding him of Kuroo's past and his previous occupation. 

He had been the heir to a powerful gang in the area, he had shot Iwaizumi, he had also rescued Kozume from a life he didn't want. He was an intriguing man. 

"Hey, Tooru, your gay is showing." Kuroo teased, earning Oikawa a glare from Kozume, previously playing one of his games. 

"Ah, no, I was, I was looking at your tattoos." Oikawa supplied and got the usual shit eating grin from Kuroo. 

"Oi, Tooru, Keiji," Iwaizumi grunted, "are you guys ready to go to our seats?" 

"Of course," Akaashi responded, kissing Bokuto's cheek before going up to Iwaizumi. 

"What about Kenma?" Oikawa questioned, also standing beside Iwaizumi.

"Well Uncle can't manage both me and Kou in the ring, so he does Kou and Kenma does me." 

"I see, well, good luck to both of you!" The three then left, going to find their seats at the front of the arena and closest to the ring. 

 

Oikawa was glued to the ring as he observed the two men battle, he had learned that while Iwaizumi was a slugger, a fighter that relied on his body mass and strength, Kuroo and Bokuto were the opposite, and it was plain to see, even to him.

"So, what's the difference? What are Tetsurou and Koutarou?" 

"Okay, so Hajime is a brawler, a slugger, but Tetsurou and Koutarou are out-fighters. More specifically Koutarou is a boxer-puncher, he relies on his stamina and continuous quick strikes. While Tetsurou is a counter puncher, he relies on his cunning skill to use his opponent's openings and slip ups work in his advantage." 

"Wow, that's incredible, what about rules?" 

"Well this is semi-professional, it's where good fighters can get picked up to represent larger fighting bands," Akaashi explained, "so it follows the professional rules, the main difference being the maximum number of rounds in a professional match is twelve, in here it's ten."

"What are rounds?" 

"You seriously never bothered to do research before you came here?" Iwaizumi questioned, his eyebrows twisted in confused annoyance. 

"A round is a three minute window of fighting, with one minute recovery time between it." Akaashi filled in before Oikawa could retort to the brawler. 

"So what round are we in now?" Akaashi took his phone from his pocket, calculating the time since the start of the match. 

"They're about to start the ninth round. Neither of them will go down though, they always go easy on each other until the last round, then they go to town." 

"This isn't sport, this is savagery." 

"A powder puff would say that." Iwaizumi smirked. 

"Hey! Rude!" Oikawa protested, but the other two men were both glued onto the match, watching as the final two rounds began to heat up. Oikawa watched as they laid into one another, a left hook connecting with Bokuto. "Wait, is Tetsurou a leftie?" 

"He's a halfie," Iwaizumi smirked, emphasising the end of the word, grinning at Oikawa who practically puffed up in annoyance.

"He's ambidextrous." Akaashi corrected, looking over at Oikawa, seemingly angry that Bokuto got hit while he was in a boxing match. 

Kuroo then covered Bokuto again, driving his left hand forward again in an arc, but pulling back, then again following the same circular movement, on the third pull away he threw his right hand against Bokuto. 

"Holy hell! What was that?! I didn't think they could do feints!" 

"That was a bolo punch." Akaashi scowled, "so that's what he was practicing with Hajime," he glared over at the man on the other side of Oikawa, then looked to Oikawa, reading his face like an open book, "a bolo punch is an unconventional punch where you get your opponent to focus on your fist then use the other to attack. It's very unconventional." He reiterated.

The bell sounded, ending the ninth round, the minute break flew by and the tenth round was under way, with a totally different tone to the penultimate round. 

Bokuto wasn't giving Kuroo any chance to land a hit, dodging and ducking, leaving no opening for Kuroo to exploit, and landing powerful jabs. 

The finishing move was a swift cross punch to the side of his face, opening a cut on Kuroo's cheek. 

"That's gotta hurt!" Oikawa wailed, he looked between Akaashi and Iwaizumi, Akaashi looked far too pleased and Iwaizumi had a mild bewilderment on his face. 

They watched as a doctor came to assess the wound, and with that the round was called to an end, Bokuto earning a technical knockout victory in the tenth, and final, round of the match. 

 

"I need shots..." 

"Tetsurou, you need pain medicine." Kozume argued.

"If I drink enough that will do," he grumbled, sat at the long table with the rest of the motley crew. 

Their Uncle calling them for a meal at their favourite public house, a consolation meal for Kuroo, a congratulations meal for Bokuto. 

The mood was light, Kuroo's cheek appropriately treated and covered with a gauze patch, even if he'd lost, he still got free food, so why be sad? 

He had another chance in a few days anyway. 

As he made his way to the bar to order his much needed shots, his shoulder was bumped roughly by another patron. 

"Sorry--" he muttered, trailing off when he saw who had just ran against him, "ugh, not you." 

"Hey, Tetsu, you sure did just take a hit, huh?" The green haired man grinned.

"Piss off, Suguru, slither back into your hole." Kuroo turned, heading to the bar, if Kuroo knew anything, he knew that starting a fight now would disqualify him from the next match and his next chance to possibly win. He ordered one of his favourite shots, one that was coloured bright crimson. A tug on his shirt sleeve alerted him to the smaller presence beside him. "Kenma? You okay?" 

"Yeah...I was wondering what I could have to drink." 

"They have an apple flavoured shot." Kuroo elaborated, knowing his boyfriend was weak for apples. 

He failed to notice Daishou approaching the bar on his other side, and how he quickly fled moments later, muttering under his breath: "good luck passing your next tests, Tetsu", grinning troublesomely. 

Kozume hummed as he lulled over the question and the prospect of an apple flavoured shot. 

"What is the one you got?" 

"Cherry, wanna try it?" 

"Sure," Kozume replied, taking the glass on the counter as Kuroo ordered a second one. He watched how Kuroo drank the red liquid, throwing it back in the same way and heading back to the table with Kuroo, who had ordered two follow up apple ciders. 

Back at the table the usual teasing Oikawa was in full flow, the man laughing along and quipping back his own shade. The food soon arrived and the group began filling their hunger with well deserved food. 

"So, when is the next match?" Oikawa asked, directing his question to the whole table. 

"Tetsurou's next match is in a week, then Hajime's first match is three days." His Uncle responded first. 

"Wow, this is all so exciting, all I do is sit in an office all day while you guys get to hit each other and not get arrested."

"There are two moves which are illegal... so technically they could get arrested." Kozume spoke slowly, unanimatedly, moreso than normal. 

This had Oikawa worried, but nobody else seemed to notice, or if they did they didn't voice their concern. 

"Are you okay, Kenma?" Iwaizumi asked, leaning forward to make eye contact with the towel boy. Oikawa was glad that he wasn't the only one who was alerted. 

"M'fine," Kozume mumbled, eating some more of his food, "just sleepy."

With the confirmation, albeit a halfhearted one, the conversation was dropped. 

Until a few moments after more light conversation had started, when Kozume's knife and fork dropped from his fingers as he fell against Akaashi beside him, his eyes drooping and his whole body going slack.

 

"Kenma!" Kuroo yelled, getting up from his seat to try and reach out for Kozume. 

"Kenma are you okay?!" Oikawa chorused, along with the Uncle and Bokuto. 

Iwaizumi was already across the room at the bar asking for medical assistance and Akaashi was holding onto Kozume, trying to balance his weight on his seat so he wouldn't fall off. 

Oikawa's Uncle was beside Kozume in a flash, checking him for signs that could indicate what was wrong, checking his vital signs. 

Oikawa was close on his heels, offering his help while Akaashi and Bokuto made sure Kuroo stayed calm, or as calm as possible in the situation at hand. 

"That isn't good," Daishou hissed, appearing beside the group, he was between Kuroo and Kozume and closer to Kozume than Kuroo wanted him to be, "is he okay?"

"Does it fucking look like he's okay?" Kuroo growled through gritted teeth, he didn't trust Daishou at all, and his tone of voice was making him more on edge. 

"Perhaps he was drugged or spiked." Daishou continued, not heeding the warning in Kuroo's voice. 

Oikawa watched as the black haired man lunged forward from between Akaashi and Bokuto, seemingly realising what Daishou was implying straight off the bat, his experience as a gang heir serving him well. He knocked Daishou to the floor and was on top of him before anyone could react. 

"Knock it off!" Iwaizumi yelled, grabbing Kuroo under his arms and dragging him away, promptly joined by Bokuto. 

"Let go of me so I can kill him!" Kuroo's strength surprised both of them, both having to physically dig their heels in and use their body weight to force him onto the ground away from Daishou.

"Why are you guys holding him back?" Oikawa questioned, with an angry scream, "let him knock his brains out!!" 

"We can't do that, Tooru," Akaashi explained, "he'll be disqualified if he engages in an unregulated match against his next opponent." 

"Urgh! Stupid rules!!" Oikawa huffed out. Daishou had now started to slink away. But not before Akaashi caught him, staring at him with fury in his eyes, the bartender coming to stand behind him. 

"Regardless of if you are guilty or not, that is a very serious allegation made against a boxer who could go pro." He said coldly, glaring at the man in front of him, grasping his wrist. 

"I've called an ambulance, they're on their way." The bartender explained, his tone sorrowful and laced with fury. 

Of course he would be sad if something happened to his customers, he cared greatly for them, and he would most definitely punish someone who threatened his perfect track record when it came to the safety and satisfaction of his customers. 

"Thank you, sir." Akaashi replied, offering him a warm smile to ease his worry. 

Not fifteen minutes later the sound of blaring sirens outside made the bar aware that the ambulance had arrived. By now Kozume had been placed into the recovery position on his side, he was conscious, but completely still, his eyes were open slightly and his eyelids twitched involuntarily, but other than that he was completely silent and could've easily been mistaken as dead. 

As he was rushed into the ambulance, his friends couldn't help but feel utterly useless, Kuroo and the Uncle both being ushered in to accompany him and the rest were left to deal with the aftermath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who didn't want to read the scene: 
> 
> After the fight they go out for a meal, Kuroo is at the bar and he orders a shot. 
> 
> Kenma approaches, wanting to also try a shot so Kuroo suggests an apple flavoured one. 
> 
> However, Kuroo's next opponent, Daishou, tries to sabotage Kuroo's next drug test by drugging his shot. 
> 
> But curious Kenma decides to drink the same shot as Kuroo, Kuroo gives him his and orders another one. 
> 
> So Kenma ends up with the drugged shot, and obviously due to the height and weight difference of him and Kuroo it affects him a lot worse than it should've affected Kuroo. 
> 
> Daishou sees this as another opportunity to sabotage their fight by goading Kuroo into attacking him (the rules don't allow unregulated fighting between opponents). 
> 
>  
> 
> I apologise to those who love Daishou, I love him too, but at the time he was a dickbag in the manga so I portrayed him as such here ;^; it is my biggest regret


	9. "No, You're Not Allowed To Laugh At My Joke. Bad."

The room was white, pure white and sterile. Oikawa walked inside, seeing the pale body before him, he moved forward, the heart monitor attached to the person flatlining. 

A sudden rush of panic came over him, a previously blank face now had features, the messy moussey hair framing her delicate face, too still to be alive, he ran from the room but the hospital staff didn't even acknowledge his presence, walking passed him as if he didn't exist. 

A cold sweat came to rest on his forehead as the room turned to red in an explosion of colour, the source being the body before him. 

He screamed. 

Jolted awake he curled in on himself, tears immediately springing to his eyes. 

He felt a warm hand rest on his shoulder comfortingly and realised he was sitting in a hospital waiting room, surrounded by his friends, some were dozing and others were too anxious to sleep. 

The hand belonged to Iwaizumi who was sat beside him, rubbing soothing circles into his back. 

It was then that he noticed a figure who hadn't been there earlier, he'd been in Kozume's hospital room. Kuroo wasn't allowed into the room while tests were being done, Oikawa noticed just how Kuroo was sat, hunched over himself, his elbows resting on his thighs, his head low, eyes with a furious sadness locked inside them. 

"Tetsurou," Oikawa mumbled, "has there been any change?" Kuroo hadn't been in the waiting room when Oikawa had arrived with the rest of the group, nor when he'd fallen asleep. And he was panicked that Kuroo was no longer at Kozume's side.

"He's still unresponsive," Kuroo growled, not directing his frustration at Oikawa, but not hiding it from his voice either, "they're doing scans and tests so I'm not allowed in." A doctor emerged from the private room Kozume was in. 

"Next of kin?" Kuroo stood up faster than Oikawa had ever seen anyone before. 

"That's me, he's my boyfriend." The doctor looked Kuroo up and down scrutinisingly. 

"It says his mother on his records." 

"She's been dead for the past six months, doctor."

"Does he have another legal guardian?" 

"He's an adult! He doesn't need a guardian! I'm his boyfriend so let me see him!" 

"Given the circumstances, I can't do that." The doctor stated, looking straight into Kuroo's eyes.

"What does that mean?!" Kuroo yelled, his stress and frustration turning into rage, this roused the other friends who were sleeping, Akaashi filling Bokuto in on what he had missed. 

"I'm his caretaker." The Uncle said, standing from beside Oikawa and Iwaizumi, "I took all of these young men in over the years. Kenma and Tetsurou both joined my family five months ago after the death of Kenma's mother." Recognition flickered through the doctor's eyes. 

"Ah, Fujima, I remember your matches, you were an amazing fighter."

"Why thank you, but can I see Kenma now? Can Tetsurou accompany me?" 

"You can come in, yes, but like I said, given the circumstances I would like Tetsurou to stay out here a while longer." 

"Of course," Fujima rested his hand on Kuroo's shoulder reassuringly and the man stood down. 

The Uncle then followed the doctor into the private room. 

Oikawa watched Kuroo slump back in his seat helplessly, within seconds Bokuto was at his side, trying to cheer him up. 

"What was that all about?" He asked Iwaizumi, "my Uncle played matches?" 

"Your Uncle?" 

"Oh yeah, I might've discovered that he is my biological Uncle from my mum's side." Oikawa beamed shyly. 

"Oh. The cemetary makes sense now," Iwaizumi simply stated, "well, he was a boxer in his hayday. He was unstoppable. I watched all his matches as a kid, of course they weren't live matches, but it was what inspired me to go into boxing." 

 

Inside the sterile room the doctor and Fujima spoke with one another. Kozume only just regaining his senses, seven hours after the incident at the public house. 

"We've had confirmation from the blood tests and urine sample that he was indeed spiked. It was a date rape drug known as Ketamine." 

"I see, is that why you won't allow Tetsurou in?" 

"Yes, it isn't uncommon for partners to use it on their significant other, you can usually tell which ones are most likely to commit the crime." 

The Uncle stared at the doctor disbelievingly, he was stereotyping Kuroo based on his looks, but the doctor pressed on. 

"We also have eye witness reports from the police, people who were present watched Tetsurou buy Kenma the drink in question." 

"Don't you dare stereotype Tetsurou based on his looks." Kozume scowled weakly, "I haven't just been dating him, we've been friends for almost eleven years. He helps grannies cross the streets, for Christ's sake." 

Fujima reached over and stroked Kozume's hair, trying to calm him down, his eyes were still tired looking and his body still barely mobile, his voice was weak and kept cracking due to his throat being dry. 

"Uncle, I want to see Tetsurou." He whispered, his eyes glassy and tears threatening to spill over onto his cheeks. The Uncle looked at the doctor, goading him. 

"Alright. I'll go and get him." The doctor said defeatedly. Calling Kuroo into the room. 

"Kenma!" Kuroo called, relief washing over him as he saw Kozume was awake, he drew him into a tight hug, "I'm so sorry, I won't chase after Suguru, I'll beat him in the ring fair and square." Kozume smiled, the tears finally falling.

"I know you will," he wanted nothing more than to hug Kuroo back and never let go, but he found his arms still felt like lead and got heavier the more he tried to lift them. 

 

Several hours later and Kozume had eaten a full meal, he was still tired and drained, but he had his movement back, so he was discharged in the afternoon. 

Kuroo supported him to the minibus that Fujima owned and used to transfer his family between matches and helped him take his seat nearest to the door and finally sat beside him. 

Kozume reciprocated, leaning into Kuroo and dozing off during the journey home. 

The mood was dour. 

Everyone was tired, everyone had been sick with worry, and now it was all over everyone fell into a quiet atmosphere that was still heavy with unasked questions. 

The Uncle parked the bus in the garage behind the hostel and helped Kuroo take Kozume into their home. Bokuto stretched as he disembarked from the bus, followed by Iwaizumi. Oikawa was the last out, letting Akaashi scramble onto the ground first. 

"Sorry guys, I'm going to have to go to work now," Oikawa groaned with a yawn, "its crunch and they need me." 

That was only part of the reason, the other part being that Iwaizumi had finally told him about his motivation and why he became a boxer, so he had to write up some more of his profile. 

"Okay, I'll meet you when you're finished, text me when you're almost done." Iwaizumi demanded.

"Do you care about me, Hajime~?" Oikawa cooed, leaning towards him.

"Uncle does. So I won't let you get hurt." Iwaizumi responded, retreating into the hostel swiftly. 

So Oikawa started down the road to the printing rooms. 

He walked quickly, the fleeting sunlight making him not want to be outside any longer than he needed to be. 

He pushed through the old oak doors, his eyes settling on his desk immediately. 

"Where have you been?!" Sugawara screeched, running over, flustered and wide eyed, "Daichi has been trying to call you all day! We were about to call the police! How dare you do this, Tooru, shame!" He yelled, rubbing his left index finger perpendicularily along his right. 

"Koushi, calm down, the important thing is that he's here." Sawamura filled in, a lot calmer than Sugawara. 

"To be honest with you guys I'm exhausted, a lot has happened." 

"Oh? Elaborate!" Sugawara demanded, his anger being replaced by eagerness. 

"I found out where my mother was buried--" Sugawara's face dropped into one of disbelief, Sawamura looked surprised, but happy, "--I found out that the man who trains the boxers is my biological Uncle!" 

"Oh my God that's amazing!" Sugawara gushed.

"Congrats, Tooru!" Sawamura voiced.

"But then I got to see my first boxing match and it was brutal! Koutarou cut Tetsurou's face with just one punch!" Oikawa said animatedly, "but then it got really sad because somebody spiked Kenma's drink and he was really ill!" Then his tone turned angry, "and my dad reckons I sold him out to the tabloids."

"Oh, yeah, Tobio pointed that story out to us earlier, we didn't know what to make of it." Sugawara said, earning a scowl from Oikawa. 

"He's back?" Oikawa deadpanned. 

"Yup!" Sugawara giggled, "and it seems he's brought a country bumpkin with him." 

Sugawara motioned behind him, where Kageyama was sat at his desk not too far from Oikawa's, emersed in his work and a small animated person sat beside him, well, if it could be called sitting, he was fidgeting and talking incessantly. 

"What about Asahi? Has he come back yet?" 

"Nope, although Yuu is working on it." Sawamura answered.

"Guess those riots really freaked him out." 

"Shut up, I'm trying to work." A flat tone scolded, one of the reporters, Tsukishima, was sat at his desk, his assistant Yamaguchi sat beside him, proofreading his article.

"Got anything good, salty?" Oikawa quipped, earning a scowl from both men and a laugh from Kageyama, "no, you're not allowed to laugh at my jokes. Bad." Now it was Sugawara's turn to laugh.

"Hanging out with all those testosterone filled men has made you into a savage!" 

"It's the only way to survive." Oikawa shrugged.


	10. "Get away, Tooru."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prepare for cuteness. 
> 
> Prepare for the angst.

Oikawa looked at the time on his phone, 23:30, he released a long sigh and walked inside the hostel, his eyes stung like there was sand in them, his eyelids drooping and for once he regretted working so late with so little sleep. 

He expected that everyone had retired for the night; it was Iwaizumi's first match tomorrow so he hadn't bothered to message the boxer to ask him to meet him. 

The reporter was pleasantly surprised when almost everyone was gathered in the living room, two heads that he couldn't recognise sat on the couch facing away from the door. 

Bokuto and Akaashi were both smushed together on the arm chair in the far corner of the room, Akaashi's legs resting over Bokuto's, they seemed to be deep asleep. 

Kozume was curled up on the love seat, wrapped in a blanket and still not looking one hundred percent, Kuroo forever faithfully at his side. 

Oikawa had to double take, inside the blanket was a flash of black hair, something akin to a small fluffy cat. Blue orbs gazed at him warily, making the group look to him. 

"Ah, Tooru!" Kuroo smiled, "Hajime was waiting for you to message him; but Uncle ushered him to bed." 

"I figured that, so I didn't message him." Oikawa responded, flopping into the beanbag beside the couch, which had become Hanamaki and Matsukawa's favourite seat when they last visited. "I'll pop my head in before I retire for the night." 

"Tetsurou..." Kozume mumbled, looking knowingly between Kuroo and Oikawa. 

"Oh yeah! This is Kiyoko Shimizu and Hitoka Yachi! These lovely ladies are a blessing." 

"Don't forget me, daddy!" So it wasn't a cat, Oikawa noted, it was a very small version of Kuroo, with blue eyes. Kuroo laughed. 

"How could I forger you?" He asked, reaching over to the bundle against Kenma's chest that was his daughter. "This is Hikiyo." 

"Wait, hold up, 'daddy'?" 

"Yes Tooru?" Kuroo grinned, wiggling his eyebrows, earning a half-hearted back handed slap across his chest from Kozume. Oikawa deadpanned.

"No." He stated matter-of-factly, "you have a daughter?" 

"Yeah, and she's the luckiest girl alive, two mummies, amd two daddies." 

"But how?" 

"Well, when a man and a woman--" 

"Don't sass me, you know what I mean!" Oikawa spat with embarrassment. 

"Keeping it brief, me and Tetsurou had a mutal agreement, he would help me escape the gang if I provided him with an heir," Shimizu supplied, turning to Oikawa, "he was already romantically involved with Kenma and did not wish to seek a relationship with a woman, so we supplied each other a service." 

"Yeah. I put her in touch with a shelter where she would be safe, she had Hikiyo eight months after arriving at the shelter, by then she was in love with Hitoka, who works as a matron at the shelter." Kuroo explained. 

"She helped deliver Hikiyo safely, and I'm grateful for that, so I'm not going to stop Kiyoka calling her her second mother, just like they don't mind that Kenma is a second dad." Kuroo added. 

Before Kiyoko continued, her hand finding Yachi's, Oikawa could feel the love emanating from them, a silent and private affair that nobody but them had access to. 

"However, I didn't bear him an heir--" 

"Biologically its his fault." Kozume interjected, running his fingers through Hikiyo's hair. "He should change his chromosomes." Kuroo gave Kozume the most accusing look, mouth slightly open in protest but no words falling passed his lips. 

"And that's how you both came to leave the gang, right?" Oikawa quizzed. 

"Three years later, yeah." 

"Daddy Ken!" The small Kuroo shouted, bouncing up on Kozume's lap, "are you gonna feel better soon?" She slurred, her dialogue and utterances sounding far too like Kuroo to be healthy.

"Yeah, Hikiyo," Kozume smiled down at her, "I already feel a lot better." 

"Ah, so you're here to see him after what had happened?" Oikawa questioned, looking at Shimizu and Yachi. 

"Y- Yeah," Yachi spoke up, "as soon as we heard what had happened we wanted to come and make sure he was okay, of course we did, I mean--" the young girl stuttered, becoming more flustered and her speech picked up speed. 

"Yes, Kiyoka was present for the phone call and wanted to come to see her father." Kiyoko supplied, continuing to radiate an air of pure love towards her small companion. 

"Aww, well it was really nice to meet you both, and Kiyoka, of course. But I should be getting to bed." 

"Yeah, see you tomorrow morning, Tooru." Kozume muttered, followed by mutual agreement from the group. Oikawa groaned, climbing to his feet begrudgingly and beginning the much too long walk to his room. 

"We should be leaving now, anyway. It's past Hikiyo's bedtime." Kiyoko explained, gathering her tired daughter into her arms.

 

As he went into the corridor that led to his room a muffled groan resonated through one of the closed doors at the farthest end, the noise not audible from the other end of the corridor, let alone from the living space behind the dining room. 

He almost immediately recognised the voice, the only thing slowing his process being how it sounded much too pained to be who he thought it was. 

He leant closer to the door, placing his ear to the wood as another huff made it to his ears. He continued to listen, hearing several more noises and one loud bang before opting to edge his way inside. 

There was nobody there, but the window was wide open. He ran to the window, jumping out eagerly. He saw Iwaizumi, stood above a second body, all he saw was his back, hunched over and breathing hard. 

The intruder below Iwaizumi cocked his head towards Oikawa. 

"Hah, found yourself another pretty boy, Hajime?" He growled, making Iwaizumi whip around to face Oikawa. 

"Get away, Tooru." He warned, a dangerous lilt to his voice. 

"Ah, so this is the bastard son all over the papers." Oikawa flinched as a loud crack filled the air, his eyes wandering to where Iwaizumi had just punched the man below him. 

He brought his hand to his face, feeling the cheek where only the faintest bruise had surfaced, then looking at the bloody mess that he wasn't sure could be called a face anymore, and it dawned on him that Iwaizumi had used nearly no power at all in the punch directed at him just days before. 

"Listen here." Iwaizumi hissed through his teeth, grabbing the shirt collar of the unknown assailant. "I am no longer who I was in the past. Leave. Leave and never return." He growled, but the man showed no signs of backing down. 

Oikawa's line of sight was drawn to the man's limp hand moving towards his pocket, a glint of metal making his heart thunder in his chest. Was it a gun? A knife? Was he going to use it? 

"C'mon, Hajime, come and rule the streets with us again." He jeered, reaching into his pocket. 

"Iwa-chan!" Oikawa yelled as the man's hand flew from his pocket holding a gun. 

"Go, Shittykawa! Listen for once in your life." Iwaizumi huffed, freezing in his place, dropping the man's now creased shirt. Oikawa watched as the man climbed to his feet, frozen in place, and the man cocked the slide on the gun.

"Tell me Hajime," he slurred, "would you be willing to go to jail for me again?" Before Iwaizumi could open his mouth he continued, "I want to know if I need to cover up the death of this psuedo-family of yours or not." He grinned menacingly. 

Oikawa had to do something, he looked around the street outside, no cars, barely any lighting, a stone. 

"I know what you're thinking, Powder Puff. Stay still or you're first." 

"You can tell that you guys go back." Oikawa said coolly, locking eyes with the threat, noticing Iwaizumi also turn to look at him, "your mannerisms, use of insults. Its almost like your brains are linked." 

He waved his arms dramatically outwards, using them as a distraction from his lower body movements, not breaking eye contact. He kicked the large stone towards the assailant, watching his reaction, a gunshot rang out through the streets, a mark in the ground near to his feet. 

"Tooru-!" 

"See what happens if you try that again." 

Oikawa was right. 

If there was anything he knew, it was a façade when he saw one, this man was anxious, flighty, and would fire his gun at anything that moved. 

Perfect. 

"So, Hajime, will you go back to prison for me?" He crooned, smiling at Iwaizumi with intent. 

"No, I don't plan on ever doing anything with you again, you had your chance, Misoru." 

"I see, a massacre and suicide then." While he goaded Iwaizumi, Oikawa shuffled along the floor, slowly closer to his side. Slowly closer to the gun in his hand, and it seemed that Misoru's attention was fully from him, and so was Iwaizumi's. 

Good. 

Oikawa had never thought that his report on how the police officers were able to disarm criminals would ever come in handy, but now he was glad he had observed, even if he couldn't remember exactly what to do. 

He grabbed the barrel of the gun, wrestling with Misoru for possession. It surprised him that the barrel was hot, then again, the officers did wear gloves. 

"Tooru! Stop!" Iwaizumi yelled, taking a few steps forward, reaching out for both of them. 

A second gun shot filled the air, and then Oikawa was on the ground, he was however cradling the gun to his chest, ah, he should have moved the barrel upwards, not to the floor. 

He had, however, successfully disarmed Misoru, who was looking paler and paler by the second. 

 

"What the hell is going on?!" A loud voice boomed, rushing out the main doors of the hostel, his eyes falling on the trio. 

"Koutarou!" Iwaizumi called, by now he was back on top of Misoru who was face first on the concrete. Understanding was clicking into place in Bokuto's eyes as Akaashi joined him from inside. 

"Holy shit!" He yelled, running to get attention from the hostel, as Akaashi ran to Iwaizumi.

"I'll take care of him." Akaashi hissed, mockingly looking at Misoru, his eyes cold and calculated. "Check on Tooru." Iwaizumi nodded, releasing his weight off Misoru and rushing to Oikawa, Akaashi swiftly took his place, restraining Misoru with his knee between his shoulder blades at the base of his neck and his other leg resting across Misoru's. 

"Tooru," Iwaizumi yelled, shaking the man, "Tooru!" 

White hot pain was slicing through every one of Oikawa's nerves, setting his body on fire while also numbing it.

"Hajime, it hurts." He groaned, still curled up on himself, by now Iwaizumi was checking for wounds, satisfied with none of his vital organs being hit, or anywhere close for that matter. 

Then he saw the blood, Oikawa was curled up so tightly that he previously couldn't see the pool of crimson liquid. 

His right knee. 

"Shit, Tooru, it's gonna be okay." He mumbled, taking his jacket off and compressing his knee, earning a jerk of his body and whimper through gritted teeth. 

Bokuto's voice, as well as several others, resurfaced from the hostel, he emerged with Fujima first, then Kuroo with his arm around Kozume tightly. 

"Tooru!" Fujima yelled, rushing to his nephew, kneeling beside Iwaizumi. 

"Well, well, well. Look who we have here." Kuroo growled, walking over to where Akaashi was still pinning Misoru to the ground. "We have some low life scum from the very depths of hell, perhaps I should put you back there."

"No." Iwaizumi interrupted. "He shouldn't get an easy ticket out." He withdrew his phone, "has anyone called an ambulance yet?" 

"Yes, I called one as soon as Bokuto came in saying Tooru was hurt." Kozume said.

"So that just leaves the police." Iwaizumi dialed the emergency number.


	11. "I'm So Fucking High Right Now."

Quiet voices alerted him that he was not alone, and urged him to open his eyes, yet his body resisted. He could smell a strong smell of soap and disinfectant, an almost out of touch beeping rousing the man further from his rest, a heart monitor? 

Was he in hospital? 

Or was he finally on an alien mothership? 

Slowly he forced his eyes open, slightly disheartened to see he hadn't been whisked off by some aliens from a far away galaxy. 

"Aliens?" He mumbled, glancing around the room. 

"Tooru-! Wait, what?" One of the voices asked. Another person snorted.

"They should knock it off with the morphine now, holy shit." 

That was Matssun. 

He knew it. 

The extra cackle was Makki. 

He heard someone moving to his side, slightly behind him. 

No, they couldn't take his painless bliss from him. 

"Urgh, I wish the aliens did take me, waking up to you two instead of-" he cut off before he could say the name bouncing on his tongue, although in his current state of mind it didn't seem so bad to scream Iwaizumi's name at the top of his lungs. "I'm so fucking high right now." He giggled, trying to sit up but feeling an immobilising agony stretch through his right leg and into his back, pulling him back down to Earth. 

Apparently whatever he was on wasn't strong enough. 

He huffed. 

"Tooru, don't move, you've just come out of emergency surgery." The voice he was now pinning as Sugawara's filling his ears. He glanced up at the silver haired man. 

"Did I die?" Another snort from the duo. 

"No, but your leg isn't in a good shape. Stay still." Sugawara said, running his fingers through Oikawa's hair and along his scalp soothingly, making the man in the bed close his eyes. 

"Where is Hajime?" Oikawa questioned, relaxing with Sugawara's touch. 

"Aliens." Hanamaki said, "they kidnapped him." 

The pair doubled over laughing once again at Oikawa's reaction. 

Wide eyes and face going pale.

"No they didn't, Tooru, don't listen to them." Sugawara was the voice of reason, "he's at his boxing match." 

"Wait, what time is it?!" 

"Almost eight in the evening, you've been unconscious for almost ninteen hours." Sugawara filled in, checking his phone.

"And I was really looking forward to seeing his match..." Oikawa sulked. 

"Hey, Tooru!" Matsukawa grinned, picking up the bedside remote, he pressed a button and a small television beside his bed, that Oikawa had previously not noticed turned on, the next thing he knew he was inclining. 

Almost into a full sitting position. 

"Give me that, no fucking way are you going to be in control of my bed--" he paused when he saw the boxing arena, it was bursting. He remembered that it had been a sell out match, but he didn't know what it would look like, how many tickets were available. He watched the two in the ring fight. 

Iwaizumi was definitely smaller, he saw his Uncle was Iwaizumi's manager and Kozume was at his side passing along towels and water. The door to the room opened and Oikawa's attention was drawn to it. 

"Hey guys, sorry I'm a bit late, I just had to get the crunch time started earlier so I could close up sooner." Sawamura explained, coming in with a bag. "Hey Tooru, how are you feeling?" 

"Why didn't the aliens take me?" He mumbled flatly. 

"Maybe because we're better?" He said, handing him the bag, "these are off everyone at the office." 

"Nobody is better than aliens." 

"Not even Hajime?" 

"Okay, maybe Hajime~" Oikawa peered into the bag, there were multiple cards and some gifts like chocolate and teddy bears holding get well soon balloons or something not far off from balloons. "I don't like the look this bear is giving me." Oikawa warily said, picking out one of the bears. "It looks like it's plotting my death." 

"Ah, that one was off Tobio and Shouyou." Sawamura supplied, trying not to laugh at Oikawa's paranoia towards the bear. 

"I feel like Jesus, you betrayed me! Judas! How dare you grace me with Tobio's gifts of hatred!" This time it was Sugawara who creased over with laughter, and apparently he had been filming the whole thing from when Sawamura entered the room. 

Oikawa turned his attention back to the screen, watching the fight. 

"Look at those arms, he could get me in a headlock any day and I would be grateful for the contact!" 

Sugawara then sent the video to Akaashi with the caption "No more morphine for you", and a few seconds passed before he saw that the message had been seen. 

 

The match was drawing to a close, the group in the changing room to prepare to leave as soon as possible so they could see Oikawa. Akaashi was surprised when he saw the message, sitting on the bench between Kuroo and Bokuto, he read the caption out loud. 

"No more morphine for you?" 

"Huh? What's that, Keiji?" Bokuto questioned, leaning over his left shoulder while Kuroo leaned in to his right. 

"Koushi sent me a video." Akaashi said, pressing play, watching the events at the hospital. Kuroo choked on his drink, Bokuto looking bewildered.

"He's fucking gone, oh my God." Kuroo wheezed, drawing Kozume's attention. "Kenma, come see this. Tooru is high on morphine." Kozume peered over and Kuroo pulled him onto his lap. 

"So he's awake, that's good." He said as Akaashi restarted the video. After only a few seconds Kozume laughed lightly just like Akaashi was, Kuroo was wheezing again, and Bokuto had joined in this time round. 

It seemed that the final line, about Iwaizumi's arms, were the final straw for Kuroo and Bokuto who were now crying with laughter. 

"He's so precious!" Kuroo laughed, wiping his eyes. 

"We have to show Hajime!" Bokuto breathed, the balls of his palms against his eyes. 

"Show me what?" Iwaizumi asked, walking in with Fujima, he had just finished and he had come out victorious. 

"Tooru is awake." Kozume said, composing himself.

"That doesn't explain why dumb and dumber are unable to breathe." 

"He's high on morphine." Akaashi stated, restarting the video and handing it to Iwaizumi. 

Iwaizumi was silent as he watched, Fujima watching over his shoulder and chuckling to himself. Iwaizumi just occassionally smiled or rolled his eyes, maybe even furrowed his brow. But the last sentence was the nail in the coffin. 

"Holy shit." And this set Kuroo and Bokuto off again. 

"Hurry up, Hajime! Who knows what dumb shit we're missing right now!" Kuroo laughed, throwing Iwaizumi's clothes at him. 

"I need to shower first, you guys can go on ahead, I'll follow later." He said, stripping from his boxing shorts and gloves, not hearing the camera on Akaashi's phone, that was in Bokuto's possession, nor paying attention to the laughing as they sent it back to Sugawara, captioning it as: "show him this then." 

 

Sugawara's eyes flashed wide at the image, he sucked in a breath to compose himself and Sawamura whistled from behind him. 

Oikawa had now moved on to dead memes and the conspiracy of why they're dead, even Matsukawa and Hanamaki were lost in it all, humouring him by agreeing or arguing with him. 

"Hey, Tooru, get a load of this." Sugawara started, selecting the image onto full screen mode, "Hajime's match just ended, he's just getting a shower then he'll be coming to see you."

"Ohmigawd really?!" Oikawa gushed, then his eyes locked onto the screen, a picture of Iwaizumi from behind, as naked as the day he was born. "Holy shit!" He screamed as Sugawara forwarded it to Oikawa's phone. "I got me some good material." He cackled, rubbing his hands together. 

Matsukawa and Hanamaki excused themselves, giving some lameass excuse of things they had to do tomorrow, when really it was obvious they were either going to throw up from laughing so much, or piss themselves. 

Roughly ten minutes passed and the quartet from the gym flowed in, the only two being missing were Iwaizumi and Fujima. 

"Tooru!" Kuroo yelled excitedly, glomping the man. Bokuto joining him on the other side. 

"You're alive!" Bokuto finished the sentence, just not necessarily with what Kuroo was planning to say.

"Welp!" Sugawara said, jumping off his chair, "me and Daichi are starving, we're going down to the cateen, we'll come and see you before we leave." 

"No! Don't go! You'll become a dead meme too!!" Oikawa cried, while everyone else laughed as they left. 

"You're really high..." Kozume said quietly. "How is your leg?"

"I have no fucking clue," Oikawa replied, lying back against his bed, his distress from seconds ago long gone. 

"Can we see it?" Bokuto asked, going to lift the covers. 

"Sure, if you can fucking find it." Oikawa sighed. 

This made them panic slightly, had his leg been so badly damaged that it had to be removed? 

Bokuto cautiously lifted the sheets, seeing his right leg with pins in the knee, a large metal brace securing his knee into immobility, the knee was purple with bruising, the gun shot wound patched up and covered in thick gauze, there were lots of little, angry red welts, some looked like grazes from gravel, the others looked like shrapnel and burn marks obviously from when the gun fired at such close range.

"Holy...Tooru! This is horrible!" Bokuto whined, Akaashi moved closer, looking at the mess of his knee. 

"No wonder you're on such a high dose of morphine..." he said, trying to keep his composure, when in all honesty the injuries were making his stomach roll. 

"When Hajime and Uncle arrive we should leave them to talk." Kozume suggested, gaining nods and noises of agreement. 

"I'm starving anyway, we could follow Koushi and Daichi and get something to eat." Kuroo followed Kozume's suggestion with his own. 

Conversation stayed mostly light after that, apart from Oikawa rambling about dying in a war and aliens brought him back. 

That was the definition of disturbing. 

The rest of the time was spent with Oikawa oggling Iwaizumi's picture and bragging about him. 

The talking began to peter out, the morphine and strain on his body exhausting him, he was just starting to doze off. 

"Tooru, if you're tired then you should sleep." Akaashi chided halfheartedly, running his fingers through his hair, Oikawa leaned into the touch, closing his eyes then forcing them back open.

"No...I want to see Iwa-chan..." he mumbled tiredly, desperately fighting to keep his eyes open, "what if I don't wake up...?" 

The four looked at him, the humour of his statements now gone. 

Even if this was the morphine talking, it was hard to see him fighting so hard out of fear.

"You will...and when you do he'll be here." Kozume reassured, resting his hand on Oikawa's. 

That was when Kuroo voiced his idea. 

"Well," he started, "you'll definitely wake up. Even if the aliens curse you to sleep forever, remember what happened to Sleeping Beauty?" 

"Rape?" 

"What? No! The Disney version, not the--" Kuroo rubbed his eyes, "--she woke up with true love's kiss. So all Hajime has to do is kiss you and you'll be awake!" Oikawa looked as if he'd just solved the meaning of life. 

"Okay...night." He muttered, allowing his eyes to close.


	12. "Rise And Shine, Sleeping Beauty~"

The journey to the hospital was torturous for Iwaizumi. Fujima was driving, taking all the shortcuts and routes that would miss out heavy traffic, but Iwaizumi still couldn't sit still, he was fidgeting restlessly. 

He felt a hand on his thigh.

"Don't worry, Hajime," Fujima said comfortingly, "if there was anything bad then the hospital would've called us." 

"I know, but I...I just can't help but worry." Iwaizumi said, wringing his hands in his lap, "I've just won one of the biggest matches of my career, y'know? I beat the runner up and favourite. I should be out celebrating and getting shit faced. But I feel empty." 

"You've really matured over these last few weeks," Fujima praised, "Tooru has left quite an impression on you, hasn't he?" 

"Yeah, I," Iwaizumi started before pausing, what was he going to say? "He's grown on me like a fungus." Oikawa's Uncle laughed heartily. "I guess I just feel this...connection with him." 

"He is like that, though, isn't he?" Fujima asked, "I was planning to never tell him of our connection, but he was just so...endearing, I couldn't keep it a secret, I dropped hints and before I knew it he had everything figured out." 

"He was able to disable Misoru yesterday, while I was frozen and unable to do a thing." Iwaizumi said, resting his elbow on the door and burying his face inside his hand. "The whole stand-off, he was testing Misoru, pushing him, almost seeing how much he could do. He was braver than me." 

"I think you shouldn't beat yourself up. Tooru is a lot like my sister, his mother, considering they've never met, he has her spirit. You went into that situation knowing the dangers, knowing how dangerous Misoru was. He went in there knowing someone he cared for was being threatened." 

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Iwaizumi's face was a hard set line. "He was amazing. You should've seen him. He stayed calm, almost flippant, he kept Misoru's eye contact, but not in a challenging way, it was a sort of look that showed all his humanity." 

"Yes, when faced with a gunman that's basic police training, maintain a calmness and show them your humanity, there will at least be hesitation by the person." 

"And he was moving his arms about, and Misoru was totally watching him, observing his top half, then he kicked a stone at him, even when Misoru shot at his foot he didn't flinch...he, he was calculating everything, literally, you could see it in his eyes. It was like he was predicting Misoru's next move." 

Iwaizumi was talking animatedly as they pulled into the hospital car park, walking inside.

"Then when Misoru's attention was on me he moved to the side of the gun and grabbed it, they wrestled for possession before the gun fired, and it hit his knee, but the shock must've spooked Misoru because he just dropped the gun and Tooru never let go. He kept tight hold. And fell in a way that meant the gun was inaccessible." They walked through the corridors, Fujima listening to Iwaizumi retelling the tale of Oikawa's bravery. 

Iwaizumi's story ran dry as they found his room, and he grew tense. 

"You'll be okay." Fujima said, patting Iwaizumi's shoulder before walking in. 

 

As Fujima entered the room, Iwaizumi close behind him, they were greeted with Kuroo and Bokuto using a big whiteboard to play naughts and crosses, Kozume was on his phone in a chair on one side of Oikawa's bed, and Akaashi was seated in another chair to the other side, holding Oikawa's hand with the drip in the back.

"Ah, Uncle," Kuroo said, standing to his feet, "he dozed off about an hour ago so we figured we should stay with him until you both arrived." 

"Yeah, even though we're starving." Bokuto added. 

"Well you four go and get some food from the canteen, me and Hajime are just going to spend some time with him." Kozume stood and Akaashi gave Oikawa's hand one last gentle squeeze before doing the same, adding a stretch as he stood up. 

"Okay," Bokuto said, "if you need us then give us a shout." The four turned to leave the room. 

"Oh, Tooru wanted waking up with a kiss from his true love, so yeah, get to it Hajime." Kuroo snickered, closing the door behind them.

"Wait, what?" Iwaizumi asked, his cheeks and ears turning red. 

"Who are we to deny a princess' wishes." Fujima shrugged, sitting where Akaashi had previously been sitting. 

"Like, now, though?" Iwaizumi questioned, his heart racing, "shouldn't we let him rest?" 

"He'll have plenty of time to rest, he probably really wants to see you..." Iwaizumi looked at the Uncle, glaring with no substance. Damn him. 

"Alright, I'll sacrifice myself for the good of the human race." Iwaizumi said flippantly, trying not to let how nervous he was show. 

He took the free, right side of the bed, looking Oikawa over. 

His pale skin even paler in the sterile room, his hair toussled and mussed, his long eye lashes. 

He decided that once Oikawa was awake that he wanted to see the wound, burn it into his mind and then one day get revenge. 

His left hand reached up to stroke the left side of Oikawa's face, his thumb gently moving over the fading bruise from their could-it-even-be-called-a-fight fight. He realised he was stalling, becoming more and more anxious by the second, when he could just get it over and done with.

"Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty~" he heard Fujima mutter, and just from his tone of voice Iwaizumi could hear him smiling.

He closed his eyes as his lips lightly touched Oikawa's, his face burning with embarrassment, he stroked his cheek with his thumb again, applying more pressure to his mouth. 

If he was going to do it he might as well do it hard to make sure Oikawa woke up, to save himself from the embarrassment of having to try a second time. 

Oikawa began kissing back, much to Iwaizumi's surprise, he lifted up slightly, looking down at the chocolate brown eyes. 

"H- Hey..." he stuttered shyly, diverting his eyes and turning an odd shade of purple.

"Tetsurou wasn't lying when he said you could break the alien's spell." Oikawa whispered in awe, looking still sleep-dazed.

"Wait, what?" Iwaizumi deadpanned. 

"Tetsurou said you'd break the alien's magic spell for me so I'd wake up." 

"Okay...?"

 

"Tooru, how are you feeling now?" Fujima asked after a few minutes in a sobering silence, running his fingers through Oikawa's hair. 

"The morphine is gone and I feel like shit..." 

"It's still there, it's just enough to keep your pain low. The stuff you were feeling before was probably left over anesthetic combined with the morphine..." Fujima responded with a smile. 

Iwaizumi waited patiently on the other side of the bed, mulling over what he should say next, or if he should speak at all. 

"Congratulations," drew Iwaizumi's attention to the bed, a slightly confused expression flitting across his face, leaving Oikawa to expand, "on your win. I think I watched the match and I vaguely remember seeing the end. You were amazing." 

Iwaizumi's memory switched to the video that Sugawara had sent to Akaashi, and the sentence that had been the nail in the coffin for him.

"Ah, thanks, urm," Iwaizumi stuttered, "honestly," he looked at Fujima, "the win means nothing. I'm just glad you're safe..." he laced his hand into Oikawa's, resting his forehead on the hospital bed next to his thigh. Oikawa looked down at him, lightly squeezing his hand. 

"Of course I'm safe, I have my amazing Iwa-chan!" He said excitedly, trying to ease the other man's sadness. 

"I was frozen stiff." 

"Wanna know the benefit of being a journalist? One of the most amazing things, Hajime?" The use of his given name made him lift his head, his eyes looking unnaturally glassy, he made eye contact with Oikawa; his sparkling and wide eyes, the doe brown which made his heart flutter.

"You meet the most amazing people, the most diverse set of people, you learn skills you never thought you could learn, or that you would ever need. One of my colleagues and myself went to document riots a few months ago, while we were there we learned how the police officers disarmed criminals and took part in the exercises." He lifted his free hand to run his knuckles and the back of his hand across Iwaizumi's left cheek. 

"So you're saying that because of your journalism you learned how to disarm someone? Just like that?" Oikawa hummed with a nod. "You'd just remember it and utilise it, just like that? That easily?" 

"Yeah. That's it." Oikawa smiled. "Journalists always face danger, so we have to know how to help ourselves."

"But you couldn't block my punch." Iwaizumi grinned.

"You hardly used any power though, I noticed, Iwa-chan." 

"Exactly, so that should've been easy." 

The mood changed back to the somber setting from moments ago. 

"Can I see it?" 

"Um...yeah, sure." Oikawa responded, lifting the cover on his right leg, he was worried that Iwaizumi might go back to self-hatred when he saw the extensive damage. 

He heard Iwaizumi suck on air and breathe a gasp. 

"I'll end him." Iwaizumi growled, "I'll fucking destroy him." 

"It looks worse than it is, honest, I've just come from sugery, apparently." 

"It shouldn't have even happened in the first place. I'm sorry." Iwaizumi almost whispered the last two words, quietly and resolutely. Startling Oikawa with his sheer feelings of guilt over what happened.


	13. "He's Gonna Win."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look at me being generous, I'm doing two chapters today as well as one each for Venus Flytrap and Stole The Show. Then I'll be working on A Strange Boy over the Christmas period as well ans spending time drawing scenes from the stories to go up on my Tumblr.

The roar of the crowd was deafening, even through the hospital television set. 

It had been four days since the incident with Misoru, and tonight was the much awaited fight between Kuroo and Daishou. With what took place outside of the ring setting the stage for what would happen in it. 

Oikawa watched from his bed, a thin sheen of sweat dampening his brow. Physiotherapy wasn't as strenuous as he wanted it to be; he just wanted to be better as fast as possible so he wouldn't feel like a burden, this meant he was working harder than he should and the pain always left him drenched in sweat and even dry heaving at times. 

"You idiot, don't be hurting yourself again." Iwaizumi grumbled, walking into the room. 

"Aren't you going to the fight?" Oikawa jumped at his voice.

"Nah, Tetsurou has everyone else, Uncle is his manager for this fight and everyone else is cheering him on. I, on the other hand, wanted to make sure you aren't overworking your leg." 

"Aww Iwa-chan, how nice." Oikawa cooed, turning his attention back to the TV, watching the fight get under way. "Do you think he'll win?" 

"As long as he stays calm, yes, I think he can win." Iwaizumi replied, dropping onto the seat to the side of Oikawa's bed, positioning himself to face the television. 

Even though the screen the duo could tell that the fight was intense. Neither were giving nor taking, equally dodging and landing punches. Kuroo had an obvious height advantage by around ten centimetres. 

This fight was similar to Kuroo and Bokuto's fight with the way neither seemed to be taking damage, Oikawa expected the final round to consist of brutal force against one another after playing for the rest of the rounds. But the current fight, now half way though the rounds, was so much more brutal and electrifying. 

"He's gonna win." Iwaizumi muttered, almost inaudibly. Sure enough, the rounds dragged on, and to their delight Kuroo had landed a possible fight-deciding hit with his controversial bolo punch, completely surprising his opponent. 

 

At the beginning of the sixth round, Daishou approached Kuroo, grinning manically. 

"How's the kitten?" He hissed, squaring his body against Kuroo's.

"He's great, no thanks to you." Kuroo returned curtly, throwing the first punch of the round, a right hook to Daishou's collarbone, the latter slipping to dodge most of the power. 

"All fully recovered then?" Daishou grinned, "how is his mental state?" This earned a growl from Kuroo, who immediately dropped his defensive position, standing tall, and turning fully ready to start an offensive barrage of attacks. 

No thanks to Daishou, Kozume had withdrawn a lot, becoming quieter and more wary, even in the hostel it had become strange to see him drink anything that was not previously sealed. Kuroo moved forward, baited by Daishou's words, he'd already managed to land a large amount of damage to the green haired man, he was aiming for a knock-out. 

As he moved he saw too late Daishou's in-coming punch, a right hook, he tried to react quickly, using the bob and weave technique to get out of Daishou's path, however, he wasn't able to bob outside of his path. 

He bobbed back inside, his eyes drawing to the arm on his right, which was poised for another hit. Once again he realised his mistake too late as Daishou's left hook connected to his neck, sending him to the floor. 

"Tetsurou!" Kozume yelled from the stands, the spectators being thrown into a frenzy at the sight of a possibly illegal punch being used. Bokuto, Akaashi and Kozume ran from their seats, straight to Kuroo's corner. 

"Keiji, come with me." Fujima commanded, climbing into the ring with approval from the referee. 

Bokuto leant an arm around Kozume's shoulders for support, watching as the man's eyes began to fill with tears. 

Even if Kozume had only been observing for five months, he was a quick learner, he surely knew about the Rabbit Punch. 

"Tetsurou, can you hear me?" Akaashi questioned, trying to see if he could rouse the man, he was breathing at least. Daishou watched on, a look of indifference on his face. Akaashi withdrew the first aid kit from his bag, preparing it for use. 

A groan from the body on the canvas made it clear that they didn't need to use smelling salts. 

"Tetsurou?" Akaashi questioned, gently shaking the man's shoulder.

"Is it broken?" Kuroo rasped out, "any bleeding? Bruising?" 

"No, you're fine, from what I can see there's no signs of any internal and external bleeding, and you'd know about it if it was broken." Fujima explained, fully examining his back and neck. 

"Okay, then I can do the last four rounds." 

"Tetsurou, you need to get checked out." Kozumeinterjected, now at the ring side, "that punch is a literal killer. What if you've damaged something and fighting makes it worse?" 

"Heh," Kuroo scoffed, struggling onto his knees, "this guy here--" he motioned behind him to Daishou, "--he might be a real ass, but that definitely wasn't a rabbit punch, I know that movement anywhere, that was an attempt at a bolo punch." 

Daishou tensed, Kuroo was trying to defend him? 

Even going against Kozume's suggestion. The golden eyed man watched Daishou warily, his face shielded by his hair. 

"Fine..." Kozume said, a small smile quirking the corners of his mouth, "you've always been this way." 

Kuroo climbed back to his feet shakily, returning to his corner as Akaashi and Fujima left the ring, he watched Kozume's smile fade as they made eye contact before a blinding smile took its place.

Kuroo quickly grasped Kozume's face gently in his hands, placing a tender kiss on his forehead with a grin as the seventh round was rung in. 

 

Iwaizumi held Oikawa's hand as they watched the commotion, Oikawa noticed the other man's impressed face as the next few rounds followed Daishou's failed bolo punch. 

"I'm surprised Tetsurou recovered from that, even if it wasn't a rabbit punch, he still got knocked in the head." 

"He's thick enough to protect himself." Oikawa cackled in response, earning a grin from Iwaizumi, although the fakeness of it hadn't escaped Iwaizumi's sharp gaze. 

"True," Iwaizumi mused. Oikawa's next question was one that he never wished to hear. 

"Am I a burden?" His voice was quiet, much too quiet for his personality. 

"Tooru? What makes you think you're a burden?" 

"Well, ever since I've met you I feel like I've been getting in the way..." Oikawa sniffled, looking at his restless hands before looking up when Iwaizumi's clasped over them.

"Bullshit." He spat, before his voice lost it's harshness. "Well, sort of, yeah you've been getting in my way and scaring me half to death--" he paused, his brain trying to comprehend how he felt, "--but now I fear a life without you. It scared me to think of what your father had done to you, how you were denied a family, it terrified me when you got hurt." 

His thumbs ran along Oikawa's knuckles and Iwaizumi watched as his eyes gazed down behind his long lashes, watching the movement. A sudden wetness distracted him as small, salted droplets covered his own knuckles.

"Hajime..." Oikawa hiccupped a sob, leaning forward into Iwaizumi's shoulder. Iwaizumi's hand worked it's way into Oikawa's hair, massaging his scalp with his calloused fingers as Oikawa cried. The pair lost track of time, possibly both just beginning to drift into a light sleep as the hospital room door opened. 

"Mr. Oikawa," a small-statured nurse called, "a doctor will be with you shortly to dicuss your prospects. I just need to take some blood and redress your wound." 

"Of course," Oikawa complied, offering his left arm to the waiting nurse for her to take blood. 

"Thank you, this won't take a minute." Oikawa caught Iwaizumi's eyes gazing at him, he felt himself staring back, oblivious of the needle and the nurse's minstrations, "thank you, I've got what I need, I will get the doctor to bring you a sugary drink to make sure you don't become lightheaded."

"Thank you," Oikawa replied, watching the nurse move around to his right side to check on his knee. He watched her, taking in every tiny movement. 

"It looks a lot better. I suspect that in a few weeks we'll be able to take out the pins on the outside of your knee," she picked up the notes at the foot of Oikawa's bed, reading over them, "you'll probably need the ones on the inside for the rest of your life, given the severity of the injury." 

That's right, his knee was almost completely shattered and the surrounding bone was fractured from the force of the blast. If he didn't need the internal pins then he would've been incredibly surprised. Moments later there was a knock and the door opened as the doctor came in prompting the nurse to leave. 

"How are you feeling today?" The doctor questioned.

"Honestly I'm just ready to go home," Oikawa responded, eyeing the doctor as he went to examine his leg. He was sick of seeing four white walls and waking up after nightmare after nightmare with the room smelling of death. 

This was why he hated hospitals. 

"Well, we are impressed," the doctor explained, making eye contact with the injured man, "it's rare to see someone take on a fighting spirit in such a short amount of time. You're progressing well in physiotherapy and I would be more than happy to let you go home. On one condition: I can get one more x-ray. As long as the pins are holding, then you can go back home and come here every three days for more therapy." 

Oikawa's eyes lit up and his broad grin brightened the room further, he nodded vigorously. 

"Thank you, doctor, please book me in for the x-ray immediately." 

 

It was later that night when Oikawa's light sleep was disturbed by his phone screen lighting up. A message from Matsukawa. He manuveured himself onto his back, propping himself up just enough to reach for his phone and read the message his friend had sent. 

It was then that he noticed that Akaashi and Kenma were sleeping on the seats at the end of his bed, but his Uncle, Iwaizumi, Kuroo and Bokuto were absent. 

His Uncle was more likely than not preparing his room at the hostel and removing the obstacles that could get in his way. 

But the other three? 

He honestly didn't know where they could be. 

Opening the message, however, it seemed his question had been answered. 

A video clearly shown the three men he was curious about. 

Outside a club. 

A shady club. 

A fight club. 

Why were they there? 

He messaged Matsukawa back, asking for him to keep him updated, but there was no reply. With a sigh he turned off his phone, settling back into his pillows and drifting into a fitful sleep, spurred on by remnants of morphine.


	14. "You Really Want To Pick A Fight You Can't Win, Uzai?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look at me being generous, I'm doing two chapters today as well as one each for Venus Flytrap and Stole The Show. Then I'll be working on A Strange Boy over the Christmas period as well ans spending time drawing scenes from the stories to go up on my Tumblr.

The car park outside the club was already heaving despite the considered early night time start. Iwaizumi felt some form of guilt for leaving Oikawa at the hospital, but he was sleeping, and he had a job to do.

Kuroo walked slightly behind him to his right, Bokuto in the same position on his left, as they rounded the warehouse lot the crowd became thicker, groups of mainly men with some women occassionally becoming visible in the crowd of bodies. 

"So, who's the guy?" Kuroo cursed, his gaze flitting through the wisps of mist encasing the night sky. 

"Misoru." Iwaizumi spat. "I...received a message that he's out."

"Seriously?" 

"Bail got paid." He buried his hands in his pockets, the chill finally burning his fingers. "Uzai Yarou." Bokuto groaned beside him.

"I hate that guy!" He crossed his arms, skulking behind Iwaizumi, "he hurt Keiji."

"Whoa, Hajime, I think you need to rethink this." Kuroo interjected. "Uzai is not someone to mess around with." 

"Neither is Tooru!" Iwaizumi barked, startling several patrons around him. Damn his emotions. "He's completely innocent in this. He came from a good life and doesn't deserve to be dragged into my past."

The two behind him fell quiet. They made their way through the shadows of the lot and made their way into the dimly lit warehouse. 

The first room was compact, littered with various worn leather couches and gambling machines. There was a ripped pool table situated at the far end where the bottle-neck entrance widened out, a second door just behind it. 

The smell of tobacco and the sight of various narcotics being used made Iwaizumi's stomach roll, by the faces his companions were making they were feeling the same. 

Looking back now, he wondered what had drawn him to this scene in the first place all of those years ago. 

 

"What the fuck do y'think you're doin' 'ere?" A slurred voice drawled, drawing Iwaizumi's attention to Bokuto behind him. He was being confronted by a man of a similar height. "Fuckin' nark." Iwaizumi rolled his shoulders, loosening his muscles. 

"Long time no see there," he moved to cracking his knuckles loudly, drawing the man's attention. 

"Hajime?" The man questioned warily. Kuroo and Bokuto both subtly drew glocks from their holders, enough for the man to see but none of the other patrons to be aware of. Bokuto's positioned in the typical holsters given to police and detectives that fit at the chest beneath the joints of their arms and Kuroo's from holsters on his waist.

"You aren't going to get in my way, right?" Iwaizumi growled low in his chest, the man looked panicked, four guns suddenly jostling his sides, and the notorious Ace pressing him into submission. 

Backing away from the trio who then made their way further into the belly of the beast. The second room was more crowded than the first, bodies tighter together, writhing. A heavy bass-beat thundered through the ground, vibrating the very cells in their bodies. 

"Ace!" A voice yelled, barely reaching Iwaizumi's ears, he turned, seeing the man the voice came from.

"Uzai." Iwaizumi greeted curtly, he hadn't expected to see his old friend anywhere other than the pit; the third level of their location. The blonde half-Japanese man circled around Iwaizumi, his narrow eyes calculating, just like the past, the past that was coming back to bite his ass now that he was finally content. 

"I heard you got Misoru arrested." 

"As if I'd do that." Iwaizumi growled, "he did it to himself for shooting up innocent people." 

"Are they really innocent once they associate with you?" Yarou quipped, reaching into his inside pocket. Both Bokuto and Kuroo readied themselves and their weapons, despite being told to remain quiet when they came across Yarou. "Less of that, nark and heir." Yarou grinned, "follow me, gentlemen." 

He hissed the last word like his burned his throat, leading the trio to the third level. Only then did Iwaizumi notice the shadows following them. 

They wouldn't be getting out of here without casualties. 

The atmosphere changed as they made their way down the stairs into the third level of the club, it became cramped, a steady flow of air giving them goosebumps along their arms. 

Iwaizumi observed warily, the scent of sweat and blood becoming stronger, the bass getting louder, he would be lying if he said it wasn't getting him riled up like it use to. 

A packet of cigarettes took over Iwaizumi's vision, he glanced at the open box, one single stick of tobacco cocked further forward than the rest. 

He eyed it, remembering the promise he'd made to himself. 

To accept this, here and now, was going back to his past, and like hell was he going to do that. He calmly grabbed the cigarette, flicking it to the ground, glaring at the offending item. 

The two men behind him watched on, watching as Yarou's face contorted into a sickly grin. 

"I see," he hissed, "this is how it is now, eh, Hajime?" He was met with a steely hazel-green gaze, "you'll see." He promised, they entered the third level, the pit. 

It was not how it use to be. 

A group of men of various sizes were lined up, menacing grins on their faces. 

The door slammed, three men also behind them.

"Shit." Kuroo cursed, reaching for his guns once more. 

"At ease." Yarou said, sitting at a table positioned between the group of men. 

He challenged Kuroo silently, staring him dead in the eyes. Iwaizumi watched a smartly dressed man pour caramel liquid into four glasses, a bartender, probably whiskey. 

Something was definitely not right here. 

It was time to run. 

"Have a drink, Hajime and company." Yarou raised his glass. "Here's to being human," he paused, looking into Iwaizumi's eyes, "all the pain and suffering, there is some beauty to bleeding, wouldn't you say? At least your pretty boy can feel something--" 

"Cut the crap, Uzai." Iwaizumi spat. He stalked to the table, counting on Bokuto and Kuroo to watch his back as he picked one of the glasses and raised it, "here's to being human, for taking it for granted, and for getting second chances." 

He then tilted his wrist, pouring the liquid into Yarou's lap, the tepid liquid seeping into the front of his pants. The other two glasses soon joined the first, covering the ring leader. Bokuto and Kuroo watched on as Yarou's face transformed from oddly hopeful to have Iwaizumi's alliance, to settling into a disbelieving stare. 

"I see." Yarou said, his head lolling and his fingers tightening on the ends of the arms of the chair. White knuckled, he glared at Iwaizumi, the man-made topography of the room leaving Yarou on a pedestal several feet taller than where the trio of boxers stood, "who am I to turn away a dear friend?" He made direct eye contact with Iwaizumi, "you want a war? So be it." 

"A war?" Iwaizumi scoffed, "you and what army?" 

"I've been breeding hatred, very, very busy. We move soon. I'll give you a chance to run, if you want to get out alive, then run for your life. Your pretty little haven won't be there and your second chances will be gone. There will be fatalities." 

One single gun shot rang out, making Iwaizumi whip around to face Bokuto. 

He was aiming towards Yarou, barrel smoking. Iwaizumi knew how much he would like to kill this man before him, he had caused a lot of pain to Bokuto and Akaashi when their story began, but he also knew how much Bokuto was scared to wield a weapon capable of harm after the same fateful day.

"You're crazy!" Bokuto yelled, watching as Yarou rubbed at the small burn and welt on his right cheek where the bullet had grazed him, Iwaizumi noted that despite his initial fear, Bokuto still had one hell of a shot. 

That shot was a warning. 

If he had no morals or humanity it would've easily been just two or three inches left; fatal. 

"So what if I'm crazier than crazy? Sicker than sick? Out of control? Perhaps that's what I like about it." Yarou laughed haughtily. "If this is so wrong; I don't want to be right!" His laugh became manic. Cocking the slide on his own guns, "mark my words, your haven will be destroyed, you have ten seconds to make yourselves scarce, boys. You should know I have a rich contact who would love your pretty boy dead. Watch your backs." 

Not wanting to back down, Iwaizumi continued to maintain eye contact with the man before him. But he knew it was a lost cause. 

"Let's go." He growled. "But we're not the only ones who'll have to watch our backs." He turned away after that final warning, stalking out with Bokuto and Kuroo. 

A gun shot split the air, Bokuto being knocked into Kuroo with a quietened scream. 

"Koutarou!" Kuroo yelled, turning to see the nick on the shell of Bokuto's ear. 

"You're not the only one with a solid shot, next time, however, I won't show you the mercy you shown me." Yarou growled. 

 

Judgemental eyes followed the trio out of the warehouse and out into the lot, tension in the air thick and now Iwaizumi knew what Yarou meant. 

There would be war. 

His army was right here. 

"Let's get out of here." Iwaizumi rumbled, leading the pair out, colliding with two other bodies. Iwaizumi blinked before realising their identities. 

"Takahiro, Issei," fear struck his heart, why were Oikawa's friends here? Were they here as a part of the army? 

"Hajime?" Matsukawa cocked his eyebrow. 

"Why are you here?" 

"We're reporters, we heard about a big announcement and wanted to cover it." Hanamaki explained, pulling out his phone, taking photos of the area, his eyes were drawn to Bokuto's ear, gingerly covered by his hand. "Holy shit, are you okay, man?" 

"We have to go," there was urgency in Kuroo's voice, "we know what the announcement is." 

"We'll explain on the way!" Bokuto supplied, clearly trying to fight off the shock that was trying to strangle his body. 

"Get in our van." Matsukawa demanded, "Taka, take the wheel, I'll treat his ear." Hanamaki nodded, "Hajime, get in the front with Taka, you two with me." The five took their designated places, Hanamaki forcing the van into a swift exit. 

"Where to?" 

"The hostel," Iwaizumi said, "Uncle will be there." 

"Care to explain what's going on?" Matsukawa asked from the back, opening his first aid kit and soaking anti-septic into cotton wads.

"The guy who shot Tooru is out, his bail was paid by one of the leaders of a local gang, Uzai Yarou," Kuroo said in a rush.

"He was my best friend. They both were." Iwaizumi said, revealing the past he'd kept hidden for so long. "He's planning an uprising, a war. No one is safe. We need--" he paused, what did they need? A bloody miracle would be nice, but he never believed in such things before, so why start now? "--We need to bolster our defenses at the safe house. Anyone who means anything to Tooru needs to be there for their own safety." 

"You realise, including us, that's an extra ten people, right?" Hanamaki said, slowing to ease over a bump in the road to prevent Matsukawa from making Bokuto's ear worse. 

"And Kiyoko and Hitoko with Kiyoka," Kuroo said, Iwaizumi began counting on his fingers. Ten rooms, if they doubled up they'd have just enough space. 

"We have the space."

"Barely." Kuroo snorted, apparently doing the same maths. 

"We can manage."


	15. "I Believe You Have A Deal, Koushi."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The quiet before the storm~

It was a little after noon the next day when Oikawa finally entered through the front doors of the hostel, being pushed by Akaashi and flanked by Kozume. 

He'd been reduced to using a wheelchair for the next week, and then to move onto two crutches and gentle exercise. 

Just like he'd thought, his Uncle had made appropriate changes to the interior of their home, removing doors from their hinges in the common rooms and kitchens, and creating space for his chair to fit in the rooms. 

He had decided on the journey home that he wanted takeout to celebrate being home, then he wanted to go to bed early, and that was definitely his plan. 

"Tooru," his Uncle's gentle voice caught his attention, "everyone is here." 

So much for a quiet evening. 

"Why?" 

"There's been a development," Fujima said, clearly exhausted. 

Oikawa's stomach dropped as soon as the words had left the older man's mouth. 

Whatever was going on was really, really bad. His Uncle positioned himself behind Oikawa's wheelchair, taking over Akaashi's previous job as Akaashi and Kozume walked ahead, heading into the communal living space. 

What Oikawa didn't expect, and clearly neither did the pair who'd entered by his side, was Bokuto, Kuroo and Iwaizumi squashed onto the main three-seater couch, Hanamaki and Matsukawa were on the love seat at a 90 degree angle to the couch housing the three boxers. 

Oikawa sputtered when he also saw Sawamura and Sugawara sitting on the single armchair. 

"This must be bad..." He mumbled as Fujima parked his chair beside the two journalists in the chair. 

It was then that he noticed Bokuto's ear. 

"What did you do?!" He squawked, apparently this was Akaashi's first time seeing the wound because his usually well managed and contained expression contorted into worry as he rushed to his lover, a hushed and private conversation taking place between them. 

Kozume sat on the arm of the couch, beside Kuroo, and that was when the heavy tension grew heavier. 

"The reason you're all here is that we need to make plans." Fujima began, monitoring Oikawa's reactions. "Last night we discovered some information that isn't to be taken lightly." 

"Uncle, with all due respect, what's going on? If it's nothing to be taken lightly then why are you wasting time?" Akaashi demanded, his voice raising and becoming more rushed as he fussed over Bokuto's injured ear, "why is Koutarou hurt? What's going on?" 

"Alright," Iwaizumi interjected, leaning forward on the couch before standing, "gonna be honest, gonna be blunt. Misoru is after us." 

"But Misoru was arrested!" Akaashi countered.

"And he got bailed out by Uzai." Bokuto filled in, meeting Akaashi's gaze, watching the anger turn into fear before reaching equilibrium into something between the two. 

"They plan on attacking the hostel," Iwaizumi paused, shoving his hands into his pockets and looking to the ground, "it's because I didn't join them." 

"Wait, so you know these two?" Sugawara piped up, gazing curiously at Iwaizumi. 

"Old friends." He didn't want to supply any further information. 

"So, um, why are we here?" Sawamura questioned.

"Because there's something else," Iwaizumi gazed over Oikawa's form, not meeting his eyes for the fear of seeing emotions he didn't know how to control, "I suspect that Tooru's dad is involved. I don't clearly know his motives, but I think he's the one giving them ammo. They could come after Tooru's friends." 

Still no noise, no movement from the man who had returned home only moments earlier. 

He was stock still, eyes trained to his lap. 

"They can't!" Came from Sugawara, fire flashing in his eyes. 

"If you are proposing that we stay here then we're gonna pass." Sawamura said next. "We have a job to do. If nothing else we can help you guys from the print rooms, but there's more than just us to protect." 

"We can house up to twenty people comfortably! Just stay here, you all can!" Iwaizumi yelled. 

Why the fuck did he care so much about a group of journalists? He'll never know, but he'll be damned if he was just going to let these people suffer at the wrath of Oikawa's father. 

"Hajime," Sugawara addressed steely, "just like you want to protect your home, we want to protect ours. We live above the print rooms in our own apartment, our colleagues will be safe with us." 

"But--" 

"Hajime." The use of his first name over the ridiculous nickname instantly set him on edge, he turned to face the man who'd changed his life in less than two weeks. "Listen to Koushi." His voice was clipped, short and lacked its usual vibrancy. 

"Tooru--" 

"Just do it." His voice challenged. 

 

Oikawa was tired. 

He didn't want to be dealing with this, he just wanted to sleep. 

Why couldn't he just go to sleep? 

...Because his wheelchair wouldn't fit through his bedroom door. 

That's why.

"For fucks sake!" Oikawa yelled, kicking the door with his good foot. He instantly regretted his decision as the movement jerked his injured knee. 

"Tooru," a quiet timbre voice said, "me and Uncle have been talking," Iwaizumi continued, "we want you stay in my room," he felt hands lightly hover over his shoulders as Iwaizumi gently rubbed the knots out of his neck and upper spine with his thumbs, "it has a big enough door for you to access." Oikawa relaxed slightly at his touch. 

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, Uncle has already sorted everything out, he's straightened up the room, and cleared the floor space so you can get right up to the bed." 

"Thank you Iwa-chan." 

 

After the rest of the afternoon was spent in tension, flare ups and lots of worrying. Sugawara and Sawamura were both leaving with Hanamaki and Matsukawa ready for the former two to undergo the crunch, the journey home was arduous and heavy.

"So, business as usual?" Matsukawa asked, peering over the passenger seat at the couple in the back, Hanamaki joining him by looking through the rearview mirror. They both noticed the smirk Sugawara was sporting.

"I actually have a job for you guys, if you think you can handle it." 

"Oh?" Hanamaki cocked an eyebrow, his lips tilting upwards to mimick Sugawara's grin.

"How would you guys feel about finding everything about Tooru's dad? Current and future plans. Me and Daichi can handle the past." Sawamura watched on, listening the the lilt in Sugawara's voice. 

"What's the pay?" 

"The usual, plus interest, plus hazard pay." 

"I believe you have a deal, Koushi, well played." Matsukawa smiled, turning to shake his hand.

"I thought so." Sugawara grinned, deciding to text Akaashi with their new deal, also opting to include the fact he had two papparazzi on his side. The van became hushed once more for the remainder of the journey home. Hanamaki pulling up outside the printing rooms for the couple situated in the back. 

"We'll keep in touch," Hanamaki said, his arm leaning over the drivers window as he spoke down to Sugawara on the pavement outside, "stay safe, yeah?" 

"Thanks guys, we will." Sugawara grinned, heading into their workplace with Sawamura loyally at his side. 

Walking through the doors was a slap of comfort in the face of their messy and muddled emotions, no way would they lose this, never. 

The duo walked in, drawing the attention of their team of journalists. 

Sawamura spoke first. 

"Alright you lot of troublemakers. Gather round!" He ordered, everyone there drawing to a stop to make their way over to their bosses.

"What's this about?" Tsukishima drawled with his usual bored tone. 

"We've got a situation, Tooru needs us," Sugawara said, scooting onto the table behind him, swinging his legs. 

"Koushi means that we're about to go to war with Tooru's father, are you in or are you out?" Sawamura stated resolutely, drawing expressions of both concern and Sugawara's uncertainty. 

"Daichi, are you sure?" Sugawara asked, looking at his boyfriend, trying to read the man, he knew all too well that Sawamura hated conflict, purposefully writing stories without bias. 

"More sure than I've ever been." Sawamura answered. "Now if anyone doesn't want to do this, I won't hold anything against you, I can write you a good reference or you can come back once this is over." 

"I'm not leaving." Nishinoya spoke first, crossing his arms. "This is all our home, anyone who leaves is a coward!" 

"Yuu, it's okay," Sugawara reasoned, "we don't even know the force of what we're up against, this couldn't be more blind if we tried." 

"I agree with Yuu." Kageyama spoke next, and apparently the animated ball of sunshine at his side also agreed, nodding vigorously. 

Seriously, when did he start working here? 

Sawamura couldn't help but wonder when they actually hired the boy. 

"I- I don't mind either!" Yamaguchi followed closely, looking up to his partner with a hopeful expression. 

"Alright, you got me too." Tsukishima glared halfheartedly at the freckled man beside him, who beamed back a glorious smile, melting away the rest of the glare. 

"C- Can I help too...?" A hushed voice sounded from the door, making the group look up from their team meeting. 

"Asahi!!" Nishinoya crowed, running over to the taller man, "you're back!!" He ran head first into Azumane's personal space, clinging to him like a koala, earning a soft chuckle in response and broad arms hugging him back. 

"H- Hey, Yuu," Azumane stammered before looking up at the group of journalists and editors, "Chikara also contacted me, him and Ryuunosuke will be returning in a few days." 

"We'll finally have the team back!" Nishinoya yelled, his excitement brimming over. "We'll be unstoppable in our war!"


	16. "Local Journalist Daichi Sawamura Has Gone Missing."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A DaiSuga storm is brewing

It was early the next morning when Iwaizumi sneakily entered his room where Oikawa slept. 

How could he be so stupid? 

He left something so personal right out in the open for Oikawa to find! 

His eyes swept the room in search of his prey; a certain book, a book a certain journalist had said was his favourite. 

He spotted the hardback novel, although it was in the worst possible place. Right under his pillows that the man he was falling for was currently resting on, drooling slightly. 

Gross. Right on HIS pillows, too. 

Iwaizumi shakily reached out, gently easing the book out from under the chestnut-coloured head of hair. 

It wasn't fair that, even with a bedhead, Oikawa could still make his heart race and his face feel hot. He wanted to run his fingers through that hair, to mess with it and feel if it was as fluffy as it looked. 

As he eased the book fully out from underneath the pillow, a small noise left Oikawa's lips, making Iwaizumi's heart rate spike. 

Was he waking up? 

The way he scrunched his face up suggested no, and another sound, more like a whimper confirmed his second suspicion. 

A nightmare. 

He debated shaking the man awake, but thought better of it, sitting down on free side of the bed behind Oikawa before hoisting his legs up. He began slowly twirling the soft hair between his fingers, it was fluffier than he'd thought, so he indulged himself, the dark caramel locks easily absorbing his fingers as he carded through Oikawa's hair softly. 

This was definitely for Oikawa's benefit though, definitely to sooth the bad dream, not for him and his curiosity towards this head of hair. 

"Hajime..." Oikawa whined. 

Shit. 

Shit, shit. 

He was awake. 

And this now looked like such an intimate and domestic moment. 

This was when Iwaizumi realised he was in way over his head. 

"You were having a nightmare!" Iwaizumi spoke to quickly, too defensively, he knew it! "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." Oikawa mumbled sleepily, clearly struggling whether to move closer to the new body heat beside him, or sink deeper into the pillows.

"How's your leg?" The question seemed to wake the journalist somewhat, he fidgetted and then let out a hiss. 

"No better." He precariously sat up, blinking away the final tendrils of sleep from his tired features, then his eyes settled on the book in Iwaizumi's hands. 

"Aww, did you bring that for me?" He cooed, watching the other man's face and ears darken with a tint of red blush. 

"No, you piece of shit." He words held no bite. 

"I have to say, though, Iwa-chan," Oikawa teased, "my copy is much more worn than this one. This one is practically new. How come?" 

"It doesn't matter!" The blush became more prominent on his neck. 

"You wanted to read it," Oikawa sighed, leaning back into the pillow, his teasing tone forgotten in the moments before, "I honestly don't know what to say, it's so...endearing." 

"I could say the same thing about you--" 

Shit. 

His thoughts were dangerous. 

He should shut the hell up. 

Oikawa's eyebrows lifted and almost disappeared behind his sleep mussed locks of chocolate hair. 

"Are you, by chance, an alien?"

"What the fuck? No."

 

Iwaizumi found the morning was quiet, the other couples staying there opting for a few extra days lounging in bed since the group had pulled out from the matches. 

No matches, no training, more sleep; that was the logic used. 

Despite the calm, Iwaizumi found himself not being able to enjoy it, his whole body thrumming with an almost constant trickle of adrenaline, ready to kick into action within seconds. 

As he threw together something that could be considered a breakfast for the journalist at the kitchen table and himself, the radio station he was currently tuned into crackled in protest, the wavelength barely catching the antenna. 

But the name currently being read out, along with the headline, no matter how broken the voice sounded, sent his stomach dropping to his knees, his heart leaping into his throat simultaneously. 

All of a sudden Oikawa's phone was blaring some obnoxious pop song. 

"Local journalist, Sawamura Daichi, has gone missing." The composed, feminine voice on the radio spoke.

And even sooner, Oikawa was answering his phone in a frenzy. 

"Koushi!" Oikawa exclaimed, almost falling from his wheelchair. "What the heck happened?!" A broken sob was all that sounded over the speaker, followed by a sniffle, then static. 

"Tooru?" A new voice questioned over the phone. 

"Tobio-chan." Oikawa spat back. 

"Um, Koushi can't talk right now, there are a lot of police here." Kageyama supplied. "Daichi has gone missing on his way back from delivering the papers to the shops." 

Of course it would be at stupid-o'clock in the morning when the cowards attacked. 

"The van is still outside the second to last delivery, downtown, it looks like it's been hit by some force. There's a Daichi dent in the van." 

"Tobio-chan!" Oikawa gasped, the gears in his mind already working with the evidence presented. "Are you saying they suspect someone drove into Daichi, into the van, then made off with him? How cruel! It's like taking the legs off a spider and leaving it to try and escape before squishing it!" 

"Tooru...you're on speaker. Please refrain from saying such things." 

"And 'Daichi dent' isn't in the least bit insensitive?" 

"No...Koushi actually gave that description into the police." 

Iwaizumi watched as Oikawa continued to argue? 

Squawk? 

He did sound a bit like one of those annoying birds. 

Eventually Oikawa ended the call and huffed before digging his middle and forefinger against one closed eye, and the his thumb in the other. 

"Tooru, are you okay?" Iwaizumi asked, watching as it seemed that he was massaging away tears from falling. 

"Yeah, I just can't believe this has happened..." Oikawa explained, a level of wobble in his tone. 

"Want me to take you to see Koushi?" 

"You'd--" There was that fucking annoying pop song again, Oikawa answered. "Mattsun?" Even without the phone being on speaker, Iwaizumi could hear the distress in his voice over the receiver. "Wait, hold up, you're talking too fast, what's going on?" More babbling. 

Iwaizumi hadn't taken Matsukawa to be someone easily ruffled, he was either wrong, or this was very bad. 

"No way!" Oikawa squawked indignantly. "Makki wouldn't-- Jeez, I know! I know you know he wouldn't! So do they! Just calm down, okay? Iwa-chan is about to take me to the print rooms, meet me there." 

Oikawa quickly hung up. 

"Let's go." Iwaizumi said, breakfast forgotten and wrapped, a note telling Kuroo and Bokuto to knock themselves out. 

 

Wheeling out onto the street, Oikawa found himself squeal as Iwaizumi dropped him from the curb into the road. 

"Iwa-chan, I don't understand, why are you putting me on the road?" 

"So we don't have to curb jump. It'll be such a tragedy if you were to damn that face if we hit a raised flag stone." Iwaizumi grinned, resting his left foot on the stand under Oikawa's chair. 

"I...still fail to see what you are planning to do." Apprehension was filling his voice, his body just screamed to hold on tight on instinct. 

And that's exactly what he did. 

"You'll see." Iwaizumi completely removed the safety break from the wheels. "Ever skateboarded before?" He asked, pushing off from the curb with his foot not planted on the chair-turned-skateboard-turned-chariot. 

Oikawa could only scream in shock, holding on tighter as they picked up speed. 

"You brute!!" He cried, watching as the plateau of the street became a slight decline, then he felt Iwaizumi's full weight join his. 

He couldn't argue much though, it was faster than walking, and even running. 

In fact, Oikawa had never gotten so far so fast, Iwaizumi propelling them forward with a powerful kick every once in a while. 

A journey that would take Oikawa just under twenty minutes took eight. 

He'd have to work out how fast they were going later. 

Iwaizumi grunted, tipping the chair back enough to get the smaller front wheels onto the curb outside the print rooms, just outside the door was an exhausted-looking Matsukawa, his eyes sullen, they soon widened upon the sight of Oikawa. 

"Nice hair." He teased, but his usual teasing lilt was missing. 

"Not now, before I deal with the shit storm in there, let's deal with you, the shit storm out here." Oikawa's words lead Iwaizumi to think he didn't care much for his appearance, but his body's natural reaction to having a part of him made fun of suggested otherwise as his hands, probably subconsciously, wound into his hair, trying to tame his windswept, tawny locks.

"Makki's been arrested." Matsukawa bluntly stated, but his eyes were glossy and lip quivered. "They said our van was found with Daichi's blood on the front." The pair of men were silent, unable to quite comprehend the words leaving their friend's mouth. 

Iwaizumi spoke first, defiance in his tone.

"We'll fix this." He scowled, looking at the offending building in front of him. 

He knew Misoru, he knew Uzai, he knew just how twisted and sociopathic they were, but they didn't know how resolute people here were. 

"Let's go inside and converse with these journalists, then we can create a plan of action." And that's exactly how Iwaizumi ended up in something from his worst nightmares, surrounded by nine journalists.


	17. "Hurts Like A Bitch."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has Daichi's fate, and Suga and Iwaizumi gets rekt

Waking up was painful. His head was pounding in protest as he began to hoist himself into a sitting position. 

"Fuck!" He spat, his left arm unable to support his weight, pain radiating from his shoulder as it gave out under his weight.

The pain helped Sawamura in regaining some of his senses. 

His eyes adjusting to the dark room, it smelled like cigar smoke and cheap alcohol. 

A bar? 

A club? 

His mouth tasted bitter and his tongue hurt a lot, had he bit his tongue? 

But how? 

Fuck, he was disorientated. 

His attention was brought back to his shoulder, he gingerly ran his fingers around the base of the limb and his heart hammered at the realisation. 

Dislocated. 

He'd now sourced the pain, he'd figured out the reason why. Using his right hand he continued to pull himself to his feet. 

Now to fix his shoulder. 

He braced his right hand at the juncture, hoping that there were no fractures in the joint. 

Sawamura then rolled his shoulder using his hand for support. 

After a few minutes of fiddling with his arm he felt the pop of the joint; causing the man to muffle a groan. The lurch of nauseous disgust in his stomach was next, followed by him suppressing the urge to be sick from the pain. 

He noted other injuries, there had to be by the way his ankle was twisted, it was probably severely sprained, possibly fractured as well. 

His clothes also stuck unceremoniously to his back, most likely thanks to congealed blood. 

However he deemed it well enough to try and figure out a way of escape. 

Now it was time to find a way out of wherever he was. 

He had to get home to Sugawara. 

Feeling across the cool wall of the room he traced the brickwork, feeling for wood, metal, any change in texture. 

And there it was. 

A door. 

The hallway was lit with fluorescent bulbs which flickered annoyingly, sparkling in his field of view. The walls and floor were painted red, although the carpeted floor was admittedly more worn and faded. He turned to his left, spotting the fire escape at the end of the hall. 

"Looking for something?" Sawamura swung round to face the enemy, recognising her face. 

Oh, how she'd grown up since he'd last seen her. 

This girl whose mother came from the Western world, who was just a child of 13 when he had last spoken to her. 

Her bright blonde hair, blue eyes and tall stature combined with the facial features of the East setting her aside from the common population. 

"Lottie." Sawamura said. 

He remembered her well, he was a reporter for a small independent paper which had been a part of exposing corrupt businesses. 

She was the CEO's daughter, although Sawamura himself had never seen the CEO, he was too far down the ladder, although only one person, the head of the printing rooms, was privy to the CEO anyway. 

But after one story in particular, about a business run by the notorious Oikawa-san, had shut the entire news room down.

"Oh? Y'remember me, what a surprise, Mister." Lottie responded, a glint in her eye which spelled trouble. 

"What are you doing here?" Sawamura raised his guard, adrenaline taking over and numbing the pain, preparing him for a fight.

"Don't'cha know--" She crooned, "--who my papa is?" Her hand went into the sleeve of her kimono. 

Throwing knives? 

"You never disclosed such information." He tread carefully. 

"Shame, you know my half-brother." Sawamura raised an eyebrow, it was someone he knew? 

His thoughts immediately drifted to Oikawa before stomping out that thought. 

Surely his father hadn't reared another child? 

"He's been causin' lotsa trouble for papa. That's why we're pickin' his friends off one by one." So it was Oikawa. His dad had been at it again. How disgusting. "How's your popped shoulder, hm?" 

"Hurts like a bitch." He growled. "Listen here, taking on all of his friends is the worst thing you can do--" a shrill laugh pierced the air. 

"He can't stop us." She grinned, drawing her weapons from her sleeve. 

Throwing knives. 

He had to move quickly if he wanted to escape. 

 

"--And that's what happened." Sugawara recounted, now half way through a box of tissues, his nose halfway to chapped skin and his eyes red and puffy. 

Iwaizumi's eyes wandered around the room, the journalists more subdued without their mainstay. 

Even Oikawa seemed to be sulking more. 

"So--" Oikawa turned to Matsukawa, "--Makki has been arrested on suspicion of driving over Daichi because his van was seen abandoned in the area and had a massive dent in the front." He then turned back to Sugawara, "and Daichi is missing, presumed injured. What a shit sandwich." 

Iwaizumi continued to watch the reporters around him, some were wearing faces of worry, others indifference, then there was Sugawara who was near inconsolable, his face buried into a large, bearded man's body that Iwaizumi had never seen before. 

Curse him for having a heart and curse Oikawa for showing him journalists have them too.

"I know where he's probably being held." Iwaizumi spoke up, watching their eyes flit over to him, "it's risky but we could take a small group to scout." 

Sugawara looked up, his hazel-brown eyes connecting to Iwaizumi's. 

"I want to..." 

Several of the journalists around them opened their mouths to protest, including Oikawa. However, Iwaizumi abruptly stopped them. 

"Okay." He simply said, his brow furrowing. "We'll leave immediately." Sugawara nodded, running through a set of double doors, presumably to the apartment upstairs that he and Daichi shared. He returned his gaze to the baffled, angry and confused reporters, his eyes locking with Oikawa's. 

"You better protect Koushi with your life." Oikawa ground out. "Journalist or not he's my friend. I'll never forgive you if he gets harmed." His eyes held a fire that made goose bumps settle over Iwaizumi's arms, the silence that followed was palpable. 

Minutes later the silver haired man reappeared, sporting casual clothes. Ripped grey skinny jeans, converse style shoes and a black tee. 

"I'm ready. We'll take Dai's car--" 

"Bad idea, they might have stakes out here and worked out which car is his." Tsukishima spoke up, his voice betraying his masque of indifference. His actions then spoke louder than his words ever could. "Take mine instead." He handed his keys out to Sugawara. 

"Thank you, Kei, I'll try to promise it won't get wrecked..." And Sugawara meant it, that car was a vintage masterpiece from a bygone era. 

It would definitely stand out, but it was because it was so unique that they stood the best chance at slipping under the radar. 

Iwaizumi turned to face Oikawa, watching him pout with his eyebrows furrowed. 

"Oi, Shittykawa." He said, catching his attention. 

Iwaizumi walked over to the chair, his heart racing, his hands locking around Oikawa's face, a hand on either side of his cheeks and jaw, forcing him to make eye contact. 

"I promise they'll both come back safely, even if I don't--" before Oikawa could protest he continued, "--you've opened my eyes to a lot of things, I owe you a debt..." He quickly closed the space between them, his face and ears burning. His rough lips settled upon a mixture of rough and soft he never thought could be possible. "So I'll definitely come back to you." 

 

The journey to the warehouse was filled with tension. Iwaizumi drove himself and Sugawara there, a white knuckled grip on the wheel in front of him. 

"I think you're really good for Tooru..." Sugawara broke the silence, his eyes locked on the road ahead, his hands playing with the seatbelt across his chest. 

"I got him shot." 

"Yeah, but it wasn't your fault. He was trying to protect you," Sugawara continued, "he's never really had someone to test him like you do." 

Iwaizumi made a noise of agreement, although he wasn't quite convinced. 

He had got him shot. 

Nothing could detract from that. 

They drew closer to the intersection, it was straight ahead and onto the dock routes at the first junction. 

"He's also never been loved like you love him."

Iwaizumi almost lost control of the car, already feeling his face heat up as he fought to regain control. His eyes then locked onto a car coming at speed towards them. 

"Shit. Hold on tight." He gritted out. Swerving to the right rather than continuing straight ahead. 

"Wh- What's going on?" Sugawara questioned, looking out of his window to see a shiny, sleek black BMW M3 Coupé turning from the direction they were meant to go. "Are they after us?" He asked, his voice rising in slight fear. 

"I wasn't sure until just a moment ago, but yes." Iwaizumi said, pushing the vintage 1968 beige Volkswagen Bug to its limits. He had to wonder how the blonde haired journalist came to own something so old. 

Iwaizumi looked into the rear mirror, watching as the newer, brisker car easily caught up, he saw another turn up ahead, this time he'd go left, loop around and continue back onto the A-road towards the dock junction. 

Sugawara clutched onto the dashboard in front of him for purchase as Iwaizumi tried to turn left without laying off acceleration. 

They cleared the turn, easily. 

Hence the reason he didn't expect to hear the sudden screech of metal upon metal, the sudden jolt that took over his body, the pain lancing up his left arm. 

He also didn't expect to be thrown forward and hit the dashboard with his head. 

White lights sparked in his vision as his looked around, his vision blurred by something red. 

Blood. 

What about Iwaizumi? 

Sugawara turned to his right, seeing the dark haired man slumped forward, unconscious, a small amount of blood passing his lips. 

Shit. 

He then heard the voices. 

At first they were muffled, he couldn't tell them apart from one another. 

Just white noise in the soundscape around him. 

Then they became clearer, more pronounced as he came to from his daze. 

He reached for Iwaizumi's hand, hoping to stir the man awake. Praying that he wasn't dead. 

The next thing he knew he was dragged from the car and onto the floor. 

He tried to struggle and tried to cry out, but the crash had left him more than a little disorientated, shaken, and he couldn't feel anything but pain, he heard a grunt beside him as Iwaizumi hit the floor beside him. 

At least he was alive. 

They both were. 

But for how long?


	18. "Daichi!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's make good use of that Archive warning, eh?

His limbs felt heavy. 

His energy drained and adrenaline ebbing away, how could he fight in such a hopelessly lost situation? 

After Iwaizumi and himself were dragged from the small VW Bug they were loaded into the black BMW. 

Tears stung his eyes as he had furiously blinked them, as well as some of the blood, away. Sugawara's blood-blurred gaze settled on Iwaizumi. 

There was no more blood coming from his mouth, that left Sugawara guessing that it wasn't internal bleeding, rather something superficial like a bitten tongue or cheek. 

That was any number of hours ago, they were now in what looked like the back room of a club, the dark crimson carpet was worn, and the damask wallpaper shone in the dim light. 

By now both of them had been restrained, so Sugawara could not actually be certain that the colours he were seeing were actually there, or if it was the dried blood crusting around his eye and peripheral vision. 

The light was dim in the room, but it was better than total darkness. 

Iwaizumi had still not come to since his first indication that he wasn't a corpse back on the tarmac of the road, next to a smouldering wreckage of a vintage car. 

Shit Tsukishima was going to kill him! 

He could hear the beat of music, probably just behind the walls that surrounded them. And lock of the door turning set his body on edge, his posture taut and his skin covering in goose bumps. 

"Hiya~" Came a sickeningly sweet voice, her tone was nothing but taunting as she entered the room. Her features striking. 

Sugawara was frozen. 

Who was he kidding? 

He'd never had to experience anything like this, he was an editor, not a reporter. 

The only dangers in his job were poor grammar and spelling mishaps. 

"Wh- Who are you?" He stammered, trying to make his voice sound stronger than it was. 

"Oh? You were never told about me? I assumed Sawamura-san woulda spilled the beans after he tried to destroy my papa's business." 

"Dai? What does Daichi have to do with this? He's never tried to destroy anything!" 

"Ah, this must be his past before ya. His hubris; his downfall." 

"What are you talking about?!" Sugawara yelled, trying to process the new information. "Hubris? Downfall?" 

A manic laugh echoed in the stark naked room. 

"Did he ever tell ya why he started his own printing rooms?" She was goading him, he knew it, but he still rose to the bait. Time and time again. 

"Why would he need a reason for starting his own business?" 

"'Cause he was a young reporter when his business got shut down by papa for trying to destroy papa's." 

Sugawara wanted to cry. He fought hard not to, but the tears were there. How could he have not known something so crucial about the man he loved? 

"Want me to tell ya the rest?" Lottie cackled, "My papa--" 

 

Dammit! He was an idiot to think he'd come out unscathed against Lottie. 

He was torn to pieces, his suit soaking in the crimson liquid oozing from his side. 

But when he had heard her conversing with someone over the phone, the muffled mention of silver hair, a car crash, and her responding by saying she'd be there shortly. 

Left him with a new vigour, one for revenge. 

He'd followed her on a corner by corner basis. When she turned one, he'd run down the corridor to watch her next turn. He'd also picked up some of the disarmed knives that were scattered around him from her attacks. 

If Sugawara was here he'd be willing to kill to get him back. 

Sawamura eventually watched her turn into a room, specifically hearing her unlock the door, but not lock it behind her. 

Bingo. 

The thought of seeing Sugawara again made his heart leap. 

Anxiety and excitement mixed together. As long as Sugawara was okay the nothing else mattered. 

The door was mostly sound proof, he couldn't hear conversation from inside. Although when he heard voices from the direction he'd came from he panicked. Bursting into the room. Two sets of wide eyes landed on him, one hazel brown, teary eyed, the other blue and menacing. A third set of green eyes were groggily blinking open. 

"Hello~" Lottie said, accompanied with a soulless laugh. "Y’are right on time, I was just gonna finish our story~" her eyes lead back over to Sugawara. It was then that Sawamura noticed his refusal to look at him. His heart sank, knowing exactly what story she was telling.

"Koushi..." Sawamura pleaded, "look at me." But Sugawara made more of a point to duck his head further and look to the side. Looking far too much like a kicked puppy for Sawamura's liking. 

"Y'should really pay more attention." Lottie drawled as an unexpected force collided with Sawamura, knocking him to the ground. 

She was above him now, straddling him with another knife in her hand, immediately wounding him with a slash across his face. 

"Daichi!" Sugawara screamed, fighting the restraints. 

Sawamura's hands were quick, grabbing her wrists and fighting against her. 

He almost forgot that he had his own weapons. Still battling for purchase on her armed hand he reached into his right pants pocket, bringing out one of the disarmed knives from earlier and struck her leg, pushing the blade in as far as he could. 

Lottie screeched above him. Jumping back and pulling the knife out of her leg. Sawamura noted, by the amount of blood flowing freely from the wound, that he'd narrowly missed any arteries. 

"Y- Y--" she stammered, quickly losing confidence. Yes she was a good fighter. Sawamura would acknowledge that much. But she was young, she had not experienced pain, her skin too untainted by scars. 

To his surprise she was quick to retreat from the room. No doubt to get reinforcements. 

He had to work fast. 

Sawamura rushed to the back of Iwaizumi's chair, if the enemy was to come back then Iwaizumi could at least put up a fight until he could free Sugawara. He used the knives to cut the ropes, watching as Iwaizumi immediately moved from the chair, hissing in pain before pacing around the room. Sawamura then moved on to Sugawara. 

"Koushi.." he mumbled quietly into the silver hair as he tore through the ropes. 

"I'm happy that you're alive..." Sugawara began. "But I don't think I can trust you right now." 

"No...Koushi, I--" Sawamura sighed, moving in front of the man, stroking down his arms and grasping his hands while falling to his knees in front of the man. 

"We have to go." Sugawara coolly stated, pulling his hands from Sawamura's and beginning to walk away. "Hajime, have you found a way to escape?" 

"Yeah." Iwaizumi responded, working on forcing an old, dusty window open. He was gasping in pain, his body held in an awkward stance as he used his shoulder to jam the window up further. "Fuck." He wheezed. 

"Perfect," he said, locking eyes on a vehicle left in park, but the keys still in the ignition. 

What idiot does that? 

"Get out the window, Daichi get that car revved up, Koushi get in it as well. Let me barricade the door." 

Sawamura was moving to the window first, clambering out while being careful of his shoulder. Once his feet were firmly on terra firma he reached for Sugawara to give him a hand climbing down.

Just as Sugawara had hoisted himself over the ledge with one arm, positioning himself to slide down into Daichi's safety net. Iwaizumi's voice broke the tense silence. 

"Get out!" He yelled, back firmly planted against the door on the opposite side of the room. "Don't wait for me, get in that car and alert everyone what is happening!" The pair looked at one another before Sugawara protested.

"No! You have to come back to Tooru! You promised!" 

"If you don't go and tell him what's happening he won't be there for me to come home to!" 

"Come on," Sawamura ushered, dragging Sugawara by his arm, careful of the wrist now swelling, "you heard him." 

"I suppose you find this easy, dropping people like pawns." Sugawara spat venomously as he was pulled to the waiting car. Sawamura released his arm and walked to the driver's side. 

"Just get in!" He yelled frantically. 

Yes he was scared.

Yes he wanted to help, but they had no experience compared to Iwaizumi. 

Sawamura scrambled into the driver's seat, ducking his head as a shot rings through the air from the open window. 

Sawamura looks to the window, expecting to see Iwaizumi trying to make his escape, probably with some strained effort due to a bullet wound. 

No. 

Instead he saw a man with a form of assault rifle aimed at them, and Sugawara...

Oh God, Sugawara. 

He was leaning on the door of the car, clutching his middle, blood was pouring from a wound he could not yet see. 

Sawamura rounded the front of the car, getting Sugawara inside and seated onto the leather interior seat. 

He ducked as he watched another bullet split the air from the gun. 

Sawamura then shut the door and rounded again, sliding into the driver's seat while removing his shirt, he tightly wound it around Sugawara's middle, hoping it would stem the blood flow long enough to get him safely to the hospital. 

He drove off just in time. 

Men were quickly closing in on the car.


	19. "Ohhh Koutarou."

Akaashi awoke with a start. His body trembled and his breath came out far too quickly. There were never any reasons for him waking up in a cold sweat, his skin sore to touch, tears trekking down his face. 

It just happened sometimes. 

The fact he didn't remember what had gotten him so worked up in the first place always lead people to tell him that they were night terrors. 

Although he could not confirm nor deny this. 

He felt the cold seeping into his bones. 

This was unusual. 

Bokuto was usually here, his arms the first thing to wrap around Akaashi's body. Touching his skin hurt, but Bokuto was so warm he always felt safe regardless. 

He felt the sheets where Bokuto should be, normally Bokuto had a sixth sense, he always woke when Akaashi did, something he'd honed over the years of being his sleeping companion. 

The sheets were still warm, so he hadn't gone far. 

As if on cue the man in question emerged from their ensuite. 

Ah, yes, now his brain was dredging away the final tendrils of sleep he remembered. 

Akaashi had always been sensitive to light, so if Bokuto needed the bathroom during the night he'd learned to go in the dark. With minimum mess as well. 

Which was incredible given Bokuto's penchant the be a living tornado wherever he'd go.

"Keiji?" He asked groggily, voice still thick with sleep. Although it was clear he was starting to rouse more. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"Koutarou..." Akaashi whispered, immediately being enveloped in a warm grasp and strong, secure arms. 

He liked Bokuto's arms, they were aesthetically pleasing as well as muscular and strong, he loved how, despite how much power was locked away in those muscles and sinew. 

Bokuto was only ever gentle with him, every touch there to relax him and ease his worry. Simply put, they were warm, comforting. Even with the panic he had experienced seconds earlier, he was settling down again. 

"The usual?" Bokuto questioned. A nod. "Will the usual help?" Another nod. It also amazed Keiji how Bokuto could be so quiet while holding such a boisterous nature. 

Bokuto gently lowered him back into a laying down position, settling him back under the covers. He then rolled onto his side, facing Akaashi. Intertwining their fingers with his right hand on Akaashi's left. Using his own left hand, Bokuto began running his fingers soothingly up and down the inside Akaashi's arm. Letting the movement ease his boyfriend back into a slumber. 

"Ohh Koutarou~" Akaashi mumbled, burying his face into Bokuto's chest. God this man was his everything. 

He let himself succumb to sleep once more.

 

The predawn twilight filtered through the closed curtains. A gentle, yet insistent buzzing drew Bokuto from his slumber. 

He looked at the bedside table on Akaashi's side, who could be calling this early in the morning? 

The name on the screen instantly set him on edge, he'd been debriefed the night before of Sawamura's disappearance. 

What was Sugawara calling for? 

Did they find Sawamura? 

He answered, gently waking Akaashi in the process. 

"Hello?" He mumbled, shaking Akaashi's shoulder just enough to rouse him. The voice at the other end deeply confused him. "Daichi?" That made Akaashi sit up and turn to him, asking for his phone. 

"Hello? Daichi?" Akaashi asked, quickly waking himself up. listening to Sawamura explain what had happened. That they were in the hospital. "Alright, I'll be there as soon as I can." He hung up. 

Akaashi shot out of bed without his usual grace, throwing on yesterday's clothes. Bokuto watching him with curious concern. 

"Everything okay?" He asked, also moving to get dressed. 

"Koushi’s hurt." Bokuto's stomach dropped. 

The pair finished getting dressed before hurrying into the common room.

"Uncle!" Bokuto yelled. "We need to borrow the van, okay?" 

"Sure, is everything okay?" Fujima questioned, rising from his seat to retrieve his keys. 

"Not really, no! One of Tooru's friends was hurt! But he's also Keiji's friend from college so we gotta go see him!" Bokuto created, following Fujima to the keys' location. 

"Well take Tooru with you, Keiji, please wake him," Akaashi nodded and went to Iwaizumi's room where Oikawa was sleeping, "do you know where Hajime is?" 

Bokuto shook his head, watching Fujima trying to find his keys in the junk drawer in the kitchen. 

"I know he took Tooru to see his friend, but then another friend brought Tooru back here." 

"That boy..." Fujima groaned, handing his keys over. 

Moments later Akaashi was back in the room, wheeling a very tired looking Oikawa in with him. He still looked sleep rumpled, his hair slightly skewwhiff, but it was obvious he'd just fixed it quickly with his hands. 

"Ready to go?" Bokuto asked. Receiving a tired nod from Oikawa and a pointed look from Akaashi. 

The three headed out to the garage and the parked up minivan. Akaashi first helped Oikawa into the front middle seat before climbing in beside him. Bokuto folded away the wheelchair and squeezed it into the back before taking the driver's side seat. Conscious of the two beside him, how anxious they'd be. 

"Did Daichi say if Iwa-chan was with them?" Oikawa asked, meeting Akaashi's gaze. 

Akaashi looked past him to Bokuto, passing him a questioning glance.

"No, he didn't say anything like that to me, he just asked to speak to Keiji." 

Akaashi visibly wilted at Bokuto's statement before seemingly bracing himself. 

"I, too, have heard nothing of Hajime's whereabouts." He said, looking at his feet. 

The rest of the drive was filled with tension, Bokuto tried to keep to the speed limit but take all the fastest roads possible, however, he found himself speeding quite a few times as they drew nearer to the hospital. 

He glanced at Oikawa beside him, he didn't have to know the man well to know that the cogs in his brain were working. 

Worrying. 

Walking through the hospital corridors brought about memories that Bokuto didn't want to remember. 

The day he'd rescued Akaashi was simultaneously the day he almost lost him. 

It was also the day that the pair became dead to the ones they love and run for Akaashi's own safety. Only slowly letting people in that they knew in the past. For him, Kuroo; for Akaashi, Sugawara. 

They found the ward in relative silence, the occasional "you're going the wrong way" or "we must've went passed it" breaking the silence. 

The ward was heavily staffed. The trio quickly realised that it was a ward with private rooms, similar to the one Oikawa stayed in after his knee was damaged. 

The sterile environment making Oikawa shudder. Akaashi approached the matron of the ward first. 

"Excuse me," he started, gaining her attention, "we're here to visit Koushi Sugawara. This is the correct ward, isn't it?" 

The matron looked at him over her glasses. 

"Oh-- Keiji-kun, is that you?!" She quickly coughed to cover up her outburst before correcting herself. "Yes, although you've beaten your dear friend here." 

"What do you mean? Where is he?" Oikawa quizzed from behind Akaashi, pushing himself forward. 

"He's still in surgery. He was able to tell us briefly what happened before he went under," she then checked her watch, "if you'd like to go and sit in room two I have a break in a few minutes. I can give you some of the details." 

"Thank you, Mari-san, we'll see you shortly." Akaashi replied respectfully, heading towards the room with Bokuto pushing Oikawa behind him. 

The three stepped inside and made themselves more comfortable. 

"Who was that, Keiji?" Bokuto spoke first. 

"Mari-san was a professor from college. She taught nursing while also working here, Koushi was studying nursing under her and another professor." 

"Wow! So Koushi was studying to be a nurse?" Oikawa grinned excitedly. 

"Well he was studying that and journalism. He wanted to go into either profession."

Idle chatter continued between the three men, they talked about Sugawara and Akaashi's time together in college, although one topic explicitly stayed under the radar, before moving onto talk about Sugawara and Oikawa's current workplace friendship. 

A knock on the door drew their attention. Mari walked in a couple seconds later. Situating herself on the pristine white leather seating. 

"Okay, well, first things first. My name is Mari Murasami, I've been the matron here for five years." She introduced politely. "It's nice to see you again, Keiji-kun, and to meet your friends." 

"Likewise, Mari-san, this is Koutarou," he said, motioning to the man on his left, "and this is Tooru," he motioned to his right. 

"Nice to meet you both," she smiled, "now, down to business. First things first, any questions?" 

"Yeah," Oikawa spoke up, "where's Daichi and Iwa-chan?" 

"Hajime Iwaizumi." Bokuto filled in.

"Daichi Sawamura is in assessment after the injuries he's sustained," she flipped through a clipboard full of documentation, "he suffered a dislocated shoulder which he then tried to fix alone and without prior medical knowledge, his ankle is severely sprained and he had a large amount of blood loss from a cut on his right side and gash along his back. We need to finish investigations such as blood tests, x-rays and stitch up the larger back wound." 

The three looked pale. 

Dread filled Oikawa's veins, Iwaizumi promised he wouldn't let them get hurt. 

"What about Hajime?" Bokuto questioned, being the first to settle his stomach enough to talk. 

"I apologise...we have nobody here under that name." Mari said, eyeing the forms in front of her. "Although Koushi-kun did mention someone with that name, as did Daichi. According to them he was surrounded and sacrificed his own escape for theirs." 

"That idiot!!" Oikawa roared, gripping the arm rests on his wheelchair angrily, trying to stand.

"Tooru, stop! You're still not healed!" Bokuto yelled in protest, restraining the man by gripping around his torso and the back of the wheelchair. 

"To hell with being healed! Hajime is out there, probably injured, and the two people I told him to protect are both injured! Koushi could be dying for all we know!"

"In regards to Koushi-kun!" Mari raised her voice, drawing their attention. "It'll be touch and go for a while...but we expect him to survive." 

"What did he tell you when he came in? What happened?" Oikawa spoke quickly, almost fumbling his words.

"Koushi-kun told us that he was in a car crash," she paused, watching their reactions, "he said the driver was badly hurt," she took a breath, "he told me there was blood coming from the driver's mouth and his first worry was that it was internal bleeding. He was proven wrong when there was no longer any blood after they had been relocated. Although the way Hajime was holding himself and his gait gave him a cause for concern." 

She paused once again, watching the brunette turn to his left and bury his face into Bokuto's shoulder, his body being wracked by sobs. 

"That idiot...so he's missing and with injuries that are worse than the ones he gets in his career. Fucking great!" Oikawa cried. "He promised to come back!" 

Mari looked at Akaashi for the green light before she continued with reporting the information she'd been given. 

"In regards to Koushi-kun's condition, our earlier assessment and investigations indicate that he'd broken his wrist, he explained that this was probably in the car crash, as well as the moderate concussion and the head injury he sustained. However, upon his escape with Daichi he suffered impact in his lower abdomen from a bullet. That is the injury with the most potential to be fatal. That's why he was rushed into surgery." 

From outside the room a muffled alarm sounded, Mari quickly standing. 

"That'll be for me, it means we have an emergency coming in. I'll see you all later." She said, quickly leaving the room.


	20. "No, Hush Up, Hajime."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of the end.

It took twenty hours before Sugawara had been stabilised. He'd lost a lot of blood. The pressure that Sawamura had applied had helped him enough to keep him alive, although just barely. 

While Sawamura had managed to lessen the bleeding, he'd failed to notice the shock that had taken over Sugawara's body, the shock that could have been fatal. 

Now there was a steady beeping, monotonous and level with Sugawara's heartbeat. Seeing he friend this way made Oikawa wonder if he had looked similar during his week-long stay in a hospital bed. 

He looked at his ashen haired friend. 

Sugawara's complexion was paler than his hair, his face marred by purples, blacks, stitching to aid the gash on his forehead in healing, the wound itself a brilliant, angry crimson colour. Oikawa's eyes moved to the wrist now wrapped in gauze and a fluorescent pink fiberglass cast to set the injury apart from the pristine white bedsheets and his ghostly skin. 

The final, and almost fatal, wound was hidden by a loose hospital gown and a soft blanket laid over him by Sawamura. 

Oikawa had heard rumours about that blanket, how the couple had sat there and knitted the entire thing. How they had made it together when they'd procured the apartment above the print rooms to make it more homely, and how Sugawara was in a fit of giggles whenever Sawamura had got himself tangled up in the pattern. 

It was a rumour he wholeheartedly believed. The couple were like that. 

Marking wherever they went with their own flare for life. 

That's why it hurt so much to see Sugawara in this state. 

That's why it hurt to see Sawamura in pieces beside the bed. His own wounds forgotten about in favour of staying at Sugawara's side. 

The whole situation hurt. 

"Daichi?" Oikawa softly roused the man. "Daichi, you should return to your own bed, Koushi will be okay..." 

"I can't, I can't leave him." 

"Daichi." Akaashi spoke up, previously dozing against Bokuto's chest, "I personally know the Matron, I could ask her to bring your bed in beside Koushi's so you don't have to leave him." 

"Thank you, if you can arrange that then I'd feel better." Sawamura replied, still refusing to let go of Sugawara's hand. Now more than ever the stark contrast in their build became apparent. 

Sugawara's hands were gentle, smaller but with longer fingers and almost feminine aside from the visible strength locked in the sinew, but in his current state, they were blanched. Sawamura's were strong, shorter fingers but wider, his slightly tanned skin had never looked darker against Sugawara's. 

Akaashi retreated from the room, returning minutes later with Mari. Sure enough, with some manoeuvring, the team of nurses also on the ward were able to get Sawamura's bed into the room, lowering the guard rail on Sawamura's left side and pushing his bed firmly against Sugawara's. 

"Thank you," Sawamura smiled, taking his place at his lover's side and holding his hand once more. His fingers idly grazing over the cast adorning his left wrist and up to just below his elbow. 

 

Mari was just preparing to end her shift, pressing the pen to the sign out sheet in reception when a hurried paramedic burst into the hospital doors. 

"O- Outside...!" He stammered, clearly out of breath and in distress. Feeling the urgency Mari pressed the on-call button at the reception before following the distraught man out into the grounds of the hospital. 

She wasn't prepared for the sight she saw.

 

Iwaizumi didn't know where he was. There were noises that he couldn't distinguish within his general vicinity, it confused him. 

Where was he? 

He peeled his eyes open, feeling like there was sand under his eyelids. With a groan he noticed a bright room, this wasn't the place he remembered before passing out. 

Where was he? 

"Hajime!" A voice called, drawing his attention to his left. Iwaizumi merely grunted in response.

"Where--" He gasped, his throat raw and parched. Seconds later a plastic cup was in front of his face and he drank from it gratefully before trying again. "Where am I?" 

"You're at the hospital--" Iwaizumi struggled to sit up, his body numbed by masses of pain relief. "No, no, no, stop-- Stop straining--" Kuroo spat out, trying to stop the now frantic man. 

Why the hell was he in hospital? 

What happened? 

"Sit still and I'll explain!" 

That stopped the struggling. 

"Where are Koushi and Daichi?" 

"I'll explain now!" Kuroo huffed, annoyed with his friend's impatience. "Right, you're all in the hospital. You've got some broken ribs, they called it a hairline fracture or some shit, and some internal bruising, other than that you're fine and you'll be discharged by tomorrow if your tests are all clear." 

Kuroo paused, allowing Iwaizumi to absorb the new information. 

"Daichi is also okay, he's a little banged up but he's going to make a full recovery." 

"What injuries did he sustain?" 

"Daichi suffered with a dislocated shoulder, sprained ankle and a nasty slash on his right side and another on his back, but nothing life threatening--" 

"Why do I feel that you've left the worst until last?" Iwaizumi asked with dread licking at his insides. 

"Koushi is the most injured, he hasn't woken up yet." Kuroo's voice froze the blood in his veins. 

The tangle of emotions struck deep into his stomach and made him fill with unease, regret, guilt, and he tensed in an effort to stop the bile rising in his throat from escaping. 

After a few moments, when he was certain he wouldn't be sick if he opened his mouth, he started asking questions. 

"Where is he?" 

"This hospital, Intensive Care Unit," Kuroo supplied, "Keiji pulled some strings so Koushi and Daichi could be together. Tooru and Koutarou are also there." 

"I want to go see him." Iwaizumi said with resolute eyes. 

"But you can't leave." 

"I'm not leaving the hospital, I'm only going a few floors up or down as long as I take my IV line with me then I'll be okay." Iwaizumi argued, moving to stand up.

"You're not going anywhere, Hajime, so get back in bed." A voice usually bubbly with a mischievous lilt demanded in a cold and unforgiving tone. "Tetsurou, leave us." 

Kuroo moved faster than Iwaizumi had ever seen him go before. Promptly vacating the room. 

"Tooru--" 

"No, hush up, Hajime." Oikawa threatened. "Do you know what you've done? Do you know what you've done to--" 

"Tooru!" Iwaizumi mustered all of his energy into one shout, fixing the taller man a hard glare. "I know what I've done..." he paused, composing himself and looking towards his lap. 

He was unable to make eye contact with the man he was undoubtedly developing feelings for. 

"I'm responsible for your knee getting busted up, I'm responsible for Daichi and Koushi both getting hurt. I'm responsible for this whole fight and as soon as I'm discharged I'm going to fix it." 

"Bullshit." Oikawa spat. "Sure you've started this fiasco, but you did it while protecting me! Daichi and Koushi may have gotten hurt." Oikawa grabbed both sides of Iwaizumi's face, forcing him to look at him. 

Holy shit, when did he fucking stand up? 

What about his knee?

"But you made sure they didn't die." Now his forehead was pressed gently against Oikawa's, his thumbs swiping against Iwaizumi's cheekbones.

Oh. 

When did he start crying? 

Oikawa's eyes also began to fill with tears as he held Iwaizumi's face, his voice softened to a barely audible, broken whisper. 

"You're also responsible for my feelings, you brute. It hurts to see you hurting..." 

"Tooru..." Iwaizumi wanted to look away, he hated to see tears mixed into those beautiful chocolate brown eyes. But he couldn't.

"You don't have to be the hero tonight, or even tomorrow, don't beat yourself up for things you only tried your best at." 

Oh God, now he was properly crying. 

He leant his head against Oikawa's chest, sobbing into his jacket while clinging to him like an afraid, lost child. 

"I'm in love with you, Hajime." God could this man stop for five seconds? Now he was crying even more! "You don't have to respond just yet, but I want you to know what feelings you now hold in the palm of your hand. So don't do anything stupid, okay?" 

"I won't do anything stupid..." Iwaizumi agreed, closing the distance between their lips.

 

In hindsight Oikawa would never have predicted this sort of development. 

He'd brashly confessed to Iwaizumi, not expecting much reaction from the boxer who had never shown much interest towards him romantically. 

But here he was, currently precariously positioned on the edge of Iwaizumi's bed, trying hard not to jar his bad leg, while also trying to return the breath-taking kiss from Iwaizumi. 

"I love you, as well, Tooru." Iwaizumi muttered, scooting over and opening his arms for Oikawa to join him.

"You sure know how to rile me up, Hajime," Oikawa commented as he settled under Iwaizumi's left arm, "I've never seriously pursued anyone before."


	21. "Hanamaki Takahiro Is An Innocent Man"

It had been a week since the abduction of Sawamura. 

Sugawara still hadn't regained consciousness but he was becoming more and more stable each day, meanwhile, Sawamura had returned to the print rooms. 

A sense of normalcy was beginning to return, no matter how precariously it was toeing the line of chaos. 

Over the course of that week Sawamura had been harassed non-stop by police investigating his disappearance. 

There was only verdict: Takahiro Hanamaki is an innocent man. 

"Alright you group of misfits, come over here." Sawamura called, attracting the attention of his group of reporters, editors and that one orange haired freeloader. "Kei, lock the door and Tadashi secure all windows. I don't want anyone finding out about this prematurely, got it?" 

Murmurs of understanding sounded from numerous members of the room. 

Once the windows and doors were taken care of he continued. 

"Good. Now, you're all aware of my original plan. I'm sure that some of you would be wondering if I were to change it: I won't." Sawamura spoke honestly and straightforward. "I keep my previous offer open to you all as well, anyone who wants to leave I can write you a good reference and send you onto a new print room." 

He specifically looked at Ennoshita and Tanaka, as the pair hadn't been present the first time the subject had been broached.

"Do you really think we'd be running after how you and Koushi were treated?" Tsukishima glowered. 

Okay, he hadn't expected that. 

"For once I agree with him." Kageyama responded next. 

Okay, Sawamura was more sure than ever that these two had been replaced by aliens. 

"Daichi, you gave us a chance when nobody else would, both you and Koushi nurtured us," Yamaguchi explained, "we aren't staying here out of obligation either, we want to help you both like you helped us." 

"Get it, Daichi!" Nishinoya piped up. 

"Yeah! I'm looking forward to a shit fest!" Tanaka yelled with a grin in Nishinoya’s direction, much to Azumane and Ennoshita's chagrin.

Daichi smiled, a warm pressure welling up in his chest. 

He knew creating this print room would be the best thing he could've done. 

Helping those kids with dreams succeed in a world full of corporation.

"Alright!" He grinned. "As reporters our first duty is to always tell the truth and have reliable sources. I have sources here, along with evidence such as one side of phone conversations as well as texts, letters, emails and things Oikawa-san has said while he thought he was alone." Sawamura explained, holding up a large brief case. "I want each team to take one item and compile an article each. Over the course of the week we'll release an article a day and draw Oikawa-san to us."

 

Sawamura watched on with pride as each set of writer and editors went to work on an article, leaving only Hinata still standing in front of him. 

"This is really dangerous, isn’t it?" The orange haired boy questioned.

"Yes, that's why you all have the freedom to leave whenever you wish to do so." Sawamura answered, watching Hinata's brow furrow in confusion for a moment before straightening out. 

"Then can I help?" 

"Of course, you can help Tobio." Hinata grinned before rushing off to Kageyama's desk where the raven haired man was sat down, already pouring over the information given to him by Matsukawa and Hanamaki. 

Sawamura then returned to his desk, internally pouring over his memories for more ammunition he could use against Oikawa's father. 

The memory of one incident in particular sent electricity vaulting up his limbs. 

Of course. 

He shut down a business that called out his company on its corruption.

This was a very fine line. 

He looked up to the room, seeing everyone working hard. 

The idea that this could be gone within the week filled him with regret. He stood from his desk, walking to the stairs up to his and Sugawara's apartment. 

"All of you follow me." He shot, making heads rise as the people in the room all filtered up the stairs after him. Hushed mumbling an ever present sound. "Sit yourself down in the living room. I'll be right back." Sawamura continued, heading down the hallway to his private study. 

He came out several minutes later, a box in his arms and numerous loose articles on top of that. He dropped them onto the coffee table. 

"Koushi has never seen this, so not a word until I can tell him properly." He pulled out one article and showed the group the article about a building. "Do any of you know this building?" 

The group looked at the photo before Azumane spoke up. 

"That's the city's old print room, it was shut down because the business wasn't doing so good." 

"Wrong. Business was booming; it was a smear campaign." Sawamura pulled out another article. This one was the last article the print house ever published. "Any idea who's business this is?" 

"Tooru's dad." Kageyama was next. 

"Correct. This print house in particular was funded to expose faulty businesses. Expose the lies, corruptions, you name it, if it was illegal these reporters would know it and expose it." Sawamura looked down, tipping the rest of the box's contents onto the floor. "That was until it took on Oikawa-san's business. The very next day it was shut down by the CEO of the print rooms." 

"Not to be a cynic, not on purpose anyway," Tsukishima drawled, "but why on Earth should we believe you over every news article printed out? It seems too odd that you have a version of events that is totally different from the reported story." 

"I was a member of this print room, it was my first job. I was only young." Sawamura supplied, sitting down with his group of reporters. "Everyone was run out of town by Oikawa-san, I was the only one to remain in the city. I do think he’s already keeping a close eye on us, after all, his son became friends with the man who helped to expose his corruption." 

Sawamura felt himself getting lost in his own nightmare.

"We don't need to hear any more, Daichi," Ennoshita said, a firm hand on his shoulder, "we know the story, we know you're a good man. So let us do this much." 

Sawamura smiled. 

"Of course, back to work!" There was a chorus of yeses and agreements as the group headed back downstairs, leaving Sawamura to his own thoughts and memories. 

He was grateful for Ennoshita's interruption, because at this current moment he couldn't stop his tears. 

He'd fucked everything up with Koushi. 

 

It took two days to get a call, and as luck, or lack thereof, would have it, Sawamura got two calls. 

One, as expected, from Oikawa-san, detailing a meeting in his office over "obscene remarks" made in his paper. 

The second, from the hospital, Sugawara had woken up. 

He'd received the second call all but half an hour after he'd accepted the meeting due to take place in three hours. 

He called an emergency meeting with everyone under his employment and those from the gym. 

"Alright, here's the plan. I'll leave here after this meeting and make my way over to the meeting with Oikawa-san. I want you to follow half an hour later." Sawamura divulged to the large group around him. "If anyone doesn't want to partake then I completely understand. You can keep Koushi company." 

"You aren't very bright, are you Daichi?" Oikawa teased. "As if we'd run away from this." 

"I just want to cover my bases, if everyone wants to take part then I want everyone to make their way there, take different routes, travel in small groups and meet with Tooru in the car park at the rear of the building. He knows an entrance that is separate from the main entrance and there's no security.”

The group listened to Sawamura’s plan, taking in the fine details.

“By the time you get there I will already be in a meeting so I want you all to interrupt. I don't know what could be behind the door, whether it's Oikawa-san, or whether he has company like Lottie, or the two Iwaizumi knows. But we have numbers over them." 

Sawamura mentally counted in his head, he'd have a backup group with seventeen people. 

He wasn't scared. 

This was it. 

This was his revenge. 

For the job he loves.

For the people he cares for. 

For Sugawara. 

Sawamura left the safety of the print rooms, climbing into his delivery van. Driving towards the place where his future, along with eighteen others including Sugawara's would be in his hands.


	22. "Hello, Dear Father."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I'm gonna point out the decided chapter number, but don't worry! I have six side stories lined up:  
> \- Climb Onto The Throne (Kuroo and Kenma's story based after the current timeline and Daishou's redemption.)  
> \- Climb Out Of The Darkness (Iwaizumi's backstory as well as his friendship with Misoru and Yarou.)  
> \- Climb Into The Light (Oikawa's childhood and his aspirations set before the timeline.)  
> \- Climb Out Of Your Skin (Akaashi and Bokuto centric that covers Akaashi's PTSD and Bokuto's connections.)  
> \- Climb Into A Home (DaiSuga side story focusing on the infamous blanket.)

Sawamura walked into the main entrance of the company, making his way to the reception desk. His heart was threatening to burst from his chest and he felt the bandage on his torso rub against the fabric of his dress shirt.

"Daichi Sawamura, I'm here to speak with Oikawa-san." The receptionist met his gaze before picking up the desktop phone. 

"Top floor, central office." She droned before passing the call through the company systems, alerting Oikawa's dad of his presence. 

No going back now. 

Sawamura made his way into the lift to the top floor, noting the security camera's lens directed at him, the boring music in the metal box doing nothing to ease his growing anxiety. 

The journey that took thirty seconds at a stretch felt like it took years. 

But he was finally at the top. Walking to the office that his peers would've walked into seven years ago to find out their business was being shut down. 

His knock on the door was more confident than he felt. 

But he wore his head up high regardless. 

This was his pride that he was defending. 

"Come in." A curt response. 

As expected. 

He probably had that very day's paper on his desk. 

Another day of revealing the truth about him and his company. 

Sawamura couldn't help but grin.

Sawamura relented, opening the oak doors. 

He walked forward, there was Oikawa-san, stood at the head of his desk, Lottie at his side. The two presences he could feel behind him must've been the two Iwaizumi had mentioned. 

Worst case scenario then. 

At this moment in time Sawamura had never been more grateful for the small device that was fitted in his suit breast pocket. If he was going to be killed by these four people, at least he'd have an audio recording of the event.

"Oikawa-san, it's a pleasure--" 

"It is, Sawamura-san, do take a seat." Deciding it was in his best interest to sit down, especially with two armed men in the room, he took the seat provided. 

Unease settled into his bones as Misoru and Yarou came to reside on either side of the chair he was sat on. This was going from bad to worse.

"How can I be of service, Oikawa-san?" He questioned, playing up an air of innocence and misunderstanding. 

"You know full well what you did."

"Oh! Do you mean the articles?" Sawamura continued. "I wanted to carry on the legacy of my old printing company by exposing corrupt businesses and their internal affairs. I've had multiple reliable sources present me with their knowledge."

"Sources are useless without evidence!" Lottie interjected.

"That's why I had two of my reporters do some...reconnaissance work in the area. Oh! Oikawa-san, did you know what else I was able to do?" 

The eyes of the older man shone with something akin to worry. He sneered at Sawamura. 

"What did you do?" He ground out through clenched teeth.

"I barely escaped with my life from you daughter after you kidnapped me and framed my friend." He watched Oikawa's dad, observing his behaviour. So far he'd played his cards right, he just hoped the decks weren't stacked against him. 

"I'm talking about the smear campaign against my business!" Oikawa-san roared. "Not what I instructed these two to do to you!" Sawamura found Yarou and Misoru both wielding guns, blocking his exit from his seat. The cards were inevitably stacked against him if everyone else was working together. 

"No such thing as a smear campaign when it's all true." 

"You piece of shit--" Oikawa-san began, but he never did get a chance to finish his sentence.

 

The doors to the office opened and Daichi's heart practically leaped from his chest at the same time he felt a rush of relief at the sight of the group on the other side of the threshold. 

"Hello, dear father." Oikawa grinned, his wheelchair had been discarded by now, he was moving around on two crutches. He winked playfully. 

"Tooru." His father ground out. "Why are you here?" 

"We're here to help Daichi! You can't shut us down!" Hinata yelled with vigour. 

"I was addressing Tooru, you runt." 

"I won't apologise about Shouyou, he can get pretty over excited. Besides, I'm here because I wanted to see the action for myself." By now Lottie, Yarou and Misoru were all on guard, Sawamura watched as Lottie fiddled with her sleeves, Yarou and Misoru drawing a second gun each from the holsters under their jackets. "I mean, it's probably not going to happen again."

"What are you yammering on about?" 

A gunshot resounded through the air, Iwaizumi walking in to stand beside Oikawa, followed closely by a grinning Kuroo and Bokuto. One by one the group of seventeen came over the threshold. Oikawa was now flanked by eight people on either side. 

"Get Daichi outta here, we'll handle this." Iwaizumi commanded to the group of journalists. 

All but one listened. 

Oikawa. 

"Ready?" Bokuto asked. 

"Let's go." Iwaizumi replied. 

"You better hit the fucking floor." Kuroo growled, drawing two semi-automatic hand guns. "We’re armed and dangerous, bitches." 

The three moved forward, each marking their enemies. 

"Tetsurou here is the heir to a yakuza gang, he never misses his shot and he'll come at you like a fucking commando. Koutarou is merciful, but not against drawing out the pain, I'm not going to hold him back." Iwaizumi supplied before firing a shot, hitting Misoru's right knee. Revenge for Oikawa. "As for me?" Misoru felt to the floor with a pained noise, clutching the pouring wound on his leg. "You don't want to know what I'm going to do to you." He growled.

All hell broke loose in the seconds after the declaration. 

Yarou fired first, his shots being countered by Bokuto, next was Kuroo, intercepting the throwing knives dispensed from Lottie’s grasp and firing further shots. 

Meanwhile, Iwaizumi was faced off against Oikawa's father. The match-ups couldn't have been worse. 

 

Bokuto knew he had to be wary. Sure, Misoru had been taken down so now they were evenly matched, but Misoru wasn't dead. He was still alive, still a threat. 

Being up against Yarou meant that Bokuto couldn't be merciful. He'd hurt Akaashi. He didn't deserve mercy. 

"So, you're that detective who rescued that pretty boy, he would’ve fetched a pretty penny on the black market." Yarou goaded.

"And you're the scumbag who destroyed his life." Bokuto quipped back. 

Anger was consuming him and dulling his senses of what was happening around him. 

He knew there were two fights going on other than his own. 

But other than that his vision had become tunnelled, there was only one thing he had to do.

Something struck him as odd. 

Why wasn't Yarou attacking first? 

He was grinning in his direction, but it felt like it was going right through him. 

"Koutarou!" 

Akaashi's voice filtered through the haze. He turned to see his lover, he was safe-- 

Pain ripped through his shoulder. His eyes flitted over towards Misoru, on the floor with a smoking pistol in his hand. 

For one moment everything moved too quickly, or he felt too slow. 

Everything that happened in that moment happened in quick succession either way. 

He turned to face Misoru, next he heard Akaashi shout out again. The butt of Yarou's gun then collided with his head, finally, he fell. 

Bokuto opened his eyes several seconds later. 

Several people talking all at once. 

"Koutarou! Uzai has Keiji!" Oikawa called, he felt hands pushing on his shoulders. Kozume was behind him trying to hoist him up. 

"What?" He asked, not believing what he heard. He'd done it again. 

No. 

This time would be different. 

Bokuto jumped to his feet, he noted how Iwaizumi was facing off in a verbal attack against Oikawa's father, he was probably in a world of his own trying to defend Oikawa. And Kuroo was pushing himself just to keep up with Lottie. 

"Where did they go?" Bokuto questioned. Turning towards the large oak doors, Oikawa following on his crutches and Kozume helping him stay balanced. 

"They turned right out of this door." Kozume responded, glancing to the right only to see a thin corridor and a staircase. His blood ran cold. They were on the top floor. "The roof!" 

Bokuto seemed to catch on at the exact same time, also noticing the open door. He charged towards it, the chill of the early evening wind at this height causing goose bumps to form on his skin. 

He felt his body get colder still when he saw that Yarou had Akaashi in his grasp, his arm placed strategically across the other man's throat, a gun cocked against his temple. 

"I want to finish what I started all those years ago, nark," Yarou explained, "you won't stop me this time." 

"Let him go!" Bokuto yelled, frozen to the spot out of fear that if he stepped closer Yarou would pull the trigger. 

He could see Akaashi trembling. 

Of course he would be. 

This was the nightmare of his past, the demon that stripped away his identity. 

Here he was. 

Reliving it all. 

"Why on Earth would I let him go?" Yarou asked. Bokuto moved forward, finding the gun from Akaashi's head being aimed at him. "Take one step and I'll take out your knee caps. Then I'll kill him in front of your eyes. I can even make it seem like a suicide." 

"Koutarou..." Akaashi gasped, the arm across his throat tightening in response to the lack of gun against his head. 

His hands desperately clawed for purchase at the arm. Anything to have his airways open, even if it was only for one second. He needed to draw a breath. 

"How does it feel? How does it feel to know that you're powerless to protect him?" 

By now the sky had been filled by thick, rolling clouds. The fact it was still early evening didn't matter, it was dark regardless of the time of day. 

Bokuto felt the first drops of rain hitting his skin, the wind whipping the droplets around them. 

"Thank you," Akaashi croaked, eyes locking with Bokuto's as he tightly gripped his captor's arm. 

Bokuto watched as Akaashi bowed forward using his momentum to hoist Yarou over his shoulder and with a strangled gasp onto the ground. 

Of course, Akaashi wasn't a fighter, but he had observed when Bokuto and Kuroo wanted to try wrestling as a joke. 

He'd seen how Bokuto had thrown Kuroo over his shoulder. 

He'd meticulously observed. 

But that didn't change the fact he didn't go throwing people around. 

He tumbled to the ground alongside Yarou. 

"Koutarou!" 

That was the moment the trigger was pulled.


	23. "Keiji!!"

The storm was just coming to a head when the trigger was pulled.

Akaashi felt the pain lance through his body, he felt the burn on his skin. He could also feel the cold rain making his body even colder as he bled. 

"Keiji!!" Oikawa and Kozume both cried in unison, having finally reached the top of the stairwell. 

They made their way to Akaashi's side. Kozume kneeling and Oikawa choosing to lean heavily on his crutches. 

Akaashi raised his head enough to see Bokuto running for him and then passed him. 

He saw Bokuto grab Yarou by the shirt, landing hit after hit on the man's face. 

Kozume immediately began checking for wounds, although it was obvious where he had been hit, if they didn't act now then he wouldn't survive. 

Akaashi continued to watch Bokuto destroying Yarou with his powerful hands. 

He felt weak, shaky. 

He felt jealous that Yarou had those hands on him while he wanted them on himself. 

He was scared. 

He could feel his vision fading in his periphery. 

"Keiji! Stay with us, don't close your eyes!" Oikawa yelled. 

Akaashi tried to stay focused on their faces, but he was so scared.

His body began to violently shake uncontrollably. 

"He's going into shock," Kozume mumbled, "Tooru, call your friends. They're in the area, correct?" 

He watched Oikawa disappear from his central vision, Bokuto's face taking his place. 

Strong hands held his while he felt gentler hands on the wound, then intense pressure, pain. 

But it didn't matter. 

Bokuto's hands were on him now. 

That was when he allowed himself to succumb to the need to close his eyes. 

Muffled cries telling him not to being drowned out by the sound of the rain that, with each drop hitting his body, felt like it was slowly ebbing out the life within him. 

 

Oikawa didn't know where Matsukawa and Hanamaki were able to get a helicopter. 

He wasn't sure if he wanted to know, lest he be accused of being in cahoots with them if it was illegal. 

Whatever it was he felt safe knowing Akaashi was safely on his way to a hospital with Kozume and Bokuto, he just hoped it wasn't too late. 

Kozume had used his favourite beige jumper as a tourniquet for Akaashi's leg. 

The point blank shot had gone straight into his thigh, severely burning his skin. 

Oikawa could only hope that it hadn't hit the major artery, he took an educated guess at the fact that the blood didn't come out as highly pressurised as he would've thought if it was a main artery. 

But he was a reporter, not a doctor. 

Oikawa carefully made his way back down the flight of stairs, the sounds of fighting continued. As he made his way into the corridor he saw Kuroo had finally subdued Lottie and was restraining her. 

He had nicks, cuts and grazes from the fight with her, but aside from that nothing was all that serious.

His face must've looked awful. 

It might've been his sudden lack of jumper. 

It could've been the blood on his clothes. 

Whatever it was Kuroo had seen had his face shifting into one of confusion. 

"What happened? You're not hurt are you?" Kuroo asked, still sitting on top of Lottie's back. 

"Keiji got shot and it’s pretty bad." Oikawa bit out, trying not to cry. 

His father was hurting everyone that he cared about. 

"What?! Is he okay? What about Koutarou? Where's Kenma?" 

"I don't know if he'll be okay, he was out cold within minutes. Koutarou escaped with a gunshot wound to his shoulder, a small knock to his head. Maybe a busted up hand if Yarou's face is anything to go by. And Kenma is in the helicopter with Keiji and Koutarou." 

"Wait. Helicopter?" 

"Mattsun and Makki, don't ask anymore or you'll be considered an accomplice in whatever they're doing. I'm sure it's not totally legal." 

"Oh." Was all Kuroo could say before breaking into a smirk. "I like those guys." 

"Where's Iwa-chan?" 

"Still in the office, it got pretty heated so I brought my fight out here." 

"That can't be good..." Oikawa mused, using his crutches to carry himself to his father's office.

 

Oikawa peered around the corner of his father's office door, instantly locking his eyes onto the tense standoff. His father trapped on the far side of the room, Iwaizumi blocking his escape. 

The hefty, old oak drawing desk lay on the ground at least five feet from where it was meant to be. Books from the shelves lining the room were scattered along the floor in disarray and there were scuff marks on the previously well waxed wood flooring. 

Iwaizumi had single handedly destroyed the room that held Oikawa's fears, childhood fears and fears for his future alike. 

"Tooru!" His father called. "Get this cretin away from me!"

Oikawa gritted his teeth. His fears had been destroyed, but the man who caused them was yet to see his end. 

"Tooru! I'll have everything you love destroyed if you do not get this monstrous man away from me!" 

"Listen here--" Iwaizumi began, grasping what was left of the lapel on Oikawa-san's suit jacket. 

"You have to get this straight, Oikawa-san," Oikawa spat the name like it was venom, "you don't own my life. I don't owe you a thing. So don't think about how sorry you feel or how badly your treated. You deserve to die." Oikawa found himself moving forward. 

"I've forgave and forgot too many times, can you believe you keep me awake at night? Can you believe I still think about you? I think and dream of a childhood where you were perhaps a kinder man, that my mother was still alive for. It's so old and uninspired, but I still do it!!" 

The next thing Oikawa knew was that his right fist collided something hard like bone, a face. 

His father's face. 

He next heard metal clatter onto the floor. 

"Fucking shit!" He wailed, hardly staying balanced on the one crutch, looking at the crutch on the floor like it personally offended him. 

"Here," Iwaizumi chuckled, picking it up for him, helping him settle his balance again. 

Just as quickly as the laugh fell passed Iwaizumi's lips the temporary kindness in his face was replaced with something akin to poorly disguised rage. 

He returned his attention towards Oikawa's father. A blinding flash of light filtered in through the windows, causing the power in the building to momentarily waver, the secondary loud clap of thunder rattled the high rise windows. 

To Oikawa it looked like Iwaizumi's rage had manifested the maelstrom running rampant outside. 

"I can’t guarantee there’ll be no blood in this farewell, nor sorrow." Iwaizumi spoke evenly, almost robotically. "But in this farewell Oikawa will finally be free from your hold and free from your judgement." 

"Iwa-chan...wait a second." Oikawa had watched as Iwaizumi's rage grew, feeling oddly off kilter with how his was fading. 

With a slightly more rational mind, although nowhere near ideally rational enough, he knew what had to be done when it came to business men. He took his place at Iwaizumi's side.

"Father, quite frankly I don't care about you anymore, you could die and I'd be happy. You were no father to me. However, we are men of business." He stopped, watching the confusion across his father's brows. "That's why we should come up with a business arrangement. You leave the boxing gym and my print rooms alone. You leave my friends alone and cut ties with your lackeys. And I won't have Iwa-chan smash up your office again, no more stories will be published about your company, and we'll never see each other again."

"You drive a hard bargain, Tooru." Oikawa watched his father reaching for his belt. 

"Tooru, get down!" Iwaizumi yelled as he lunged at Oikawa's father, wrestling for purchase on the gun that had been hiding under his suit jacket. 

Only then did Oikawa notice the way Iwaizumi was favouring one side over the other, using his weaker left hand over his stronger right. 

His right hand was poised over his chest protectively. 

He was hurt. 

But when? 

Oikawa had gone into his hospital ward to see him, but had assumed he was there just for a general health check and tests. Especially after being in the same car crash as Sugawara and being the room the shooter had aimed from when they'd hit Sugawara. 

But he didn't see any external injuries at the hospital, no casts or even obvious bruises. His mind didn't supply that there were internal injuries. 

To him Iwaizumi was an immovable wall, invincible. 

But the truth was he was still just a fragile human, made from the same materials as himself. 

Bone. 

Muscle. 

Organs. 

Skin. 

He was far from indestructible. 

He heard Iwaizumi make a pained noise, snapping from his thoughts. 

He looked on as his father had drove the gun into the area Iwaizumi was protecting. 

He watched as Iwaizumi fell to the side, clutching himself, his whole body tensing in pain. 

He watched his father tower above Iwaizumi, the gun in his hand forgotten in favour of using his feet as a weapon. 

Oikawa searched frantically for anything he could use, noticing the gun Iwaizumi had used earlier to hit Misoru's knee. 

He threw himself at the weapon, disregarding his injured leg, pain rippling and shocking its way through his right leg as his knees hit the floor first. 

He reached for the gun and aimed.

He'd never used a gun before. 

He aimed for the gun in his father's hand, hoping he would have the strength left in his arms to hold his aim. 

How wrong he was. 

As Oikawa pulled the trigger he found that even from a seemingly small gun there was a frightful kickback. 

He didn't hit his target, not by a long shot, but he'd landed a shot nonetheless. 

Sure it was the opposite arm and his shoulder, but he got a direct hit. 

"You piece of shit!" His father screamed, his face contorted in agony as he turned to face Oikawa, clutching his shoulder with his now free hand. 

Oikawa counted that as a victory. 

He achieved what he wanted to do. 

But now he was stranded on the floor, metres away from Iwaizumi who was quite possibly unconscious.

"Freeze!" A new voice yelled. Oikawa looked up to see armed police entering the room in droves, they apprehended his father and Misoru, he saw Kuroo running in behind them. 

"Tooru!" The bed headed boxer dropped to his knees beside Oikawa, "as soon as you'd told me what happened with Keiji I called them-- wait...where's Iwaizumi?" 

So he hadn't looked to the other side of the room and to the crumpled figure on the ground. Oikawa found Kuroo following his gaze and watched as his face distorted into distress.

"Let me carry you over." Kuroo said, hoisting Oikawa into his grasp and helping support his weight to go over to Iwaizumi's prone form.

"Iwa-chan...?"


	24. "What Do You Take Me For Iwa-chan?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, I signed in to update Stole The Show, but I happened to look at the comments on this story and felt absolutely awful (well done guys, you made me feel emotions!)for leaving so many cliffhangers one after the other. 
> 
> So I've updated earlier, plz forgive me ;-;
> 
> Starting this Thursday the next installment of the series will be starting; a KuroKen-centric sequel which is set after their conversation in this chapter!

Thanks to Bokuto's connection with the police, Oikawa learned that while Hanamaki and Matsukawa had stolen a helicopter, two of Bokuto's friends in the police force, Suzumeda and Shirofuku, had covered for them. 

Also thanks to that connection they were able to prove that the group of boxers and journalists were acting only in self-defence, saving them from any charges. Enough evidence had been gathered that they would only need those not involved but present to appear as witnesses against the foursome of criminals. 

So while the legal and social implications were easily enough resolved. 

Recovery was a lot longer. 

It had been three months since the incident at his father's office. 

Oikawa nearly had full use of his leg again, intensive physiotherapy sessions had given him almost complete mobility. 

The only thing left to improve on was his stamina, his right leg in particular still caved into tiredness.

The limp he had slowed him down as well, but that would recover in time. 

"Iwa-chan! I'm tired!" 

"I don't care, get doing those exercises." Iwaizumi responded from his position on the bed. 

He was still recovering too, Oikawa had been distraught after learning that Iwaizumi had gone in fighting with broken ribs. 

After they finally arrived at the hospital they'd found out that the barrage of kicks had done more damage to his ribs and caused minor pneumothorax. 

His lung had collapsed due to his rib puncturing it and the organs not protected by his ribcage had severe bruising. 

Iwaizumi's injuries had been slower to recover, it was a waiting game for the first month to see if it would heal on its own. His liver and spleen had both suffered minor lacerations but both had closed over in that month. 

He spent another month bed bound to make sure the lacerations were fully closed over and doing gentle exercises to avoid muscle deterioration. 

The final month Iwaizumi had been allowed to return to his normal training routine, albeit not as intensive. 

Oikawa now could appreciate Iwaizumi with and without muscle tone. 

Having noticed that Oikawa had not continued with his home exercises for physiotherapy, Iwaizumi resorted to bargaining.

"Finish those reps and I'll make out with you."

"What do you take me for Iwa-chan?" 

"Half an hour. Shirtless."

"An hour."

"Forty five minutes." 

"Fifty." 

"Twenty." 

"Half an hour sounds good." 

 

Sawamura had been working on fixing his relationship with Sugawara since the incident. 

He'd been scolded and chewed out once Sugawara had caught wind of it. 

But he was just happy that Sugawara was recovering, he quickly learned that Sugawara was no longer angry about his past, he'd had time to think it through and realise just why he'd never told him. 

Sawamura wondered how Sugawara felt knowing that he had had to have his spleen removed in order to save his life. 

But he didn't want him to feel sad anymore. 

Every day he took flowers to his lover and was called all manner of names as a result. 

He was called a sap, cheesy, hopelessly romantic, names which held no real bite to them. 

He'd also been the very willing victim of kisses and hugs off Sugawara. 

Three months later they were finally home. 

Sawamura had just finished cleaning up after their evening meal, Sugawara was situated on the couch, curled up under the quilt they'd made together. 

Sawamura headed into his private office, bringing out the box he'd shown his colleagues. 

"Koushi, I have something to show you." His heart hammered in his chest, hoping he wouldn't cause an upset or agitated mood with bringing it up. 

"Okay." Sugawara said with a smile, he was ready to hear it from Sawamura now. 

 

"Maybe I should step up as the heir." Kuroo mused, looking down to Kozume splayed out on the bed with his PSP.

"I thought you didn't want to," he replied, pausing his game to look up at him, "is it because of what happened?" 

"Yeah, I think Koutarou would be happier knowing it was one less gang to worry about. Our friendship could help the crew have a better relationship with the police and I don't want to risk someone like Uzai or Misoru getting their hands on Nekoma." Kuroo reasoned. "Going back to the Koutarou thing, with what happened to Keiji still fresh on his mind I want to make it as pain free for him as possible, y'know? Peace of mind that he can call on our gang as an ally over an enemy." 

"That would be nice for him, if that's what you want to do then I won't stop you, I'll stand beside you." 

"You'll be the best mob boss wife, Kenma." Kuroo grinned. 

"Ew. I can feel your perverse intentions from here." That caused Kuroo to laugh heartily. 

"What if I told you I was serious?" 

"I'd tell you I'll bury my foot in your ass." 

"Kenma! I'm trying to propose, stop scoring points on me!" 

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Kozume responded with a coy smile. 

"Do to." 

"Do not." 

"Do to." 

"Do not." 

"Do to."

"Do not." Kozume said with a smirk. The pair lay side by side, laughing. Kozume looked up at Kuroo who had a pensive expression. "I'd say yes, you dummy." 

 

Bokuto had needed surgery to remove the bullet that was embedded in the meat of his shoulder. 

Further examinations found that he had a small infection on his wounded ear from it not being treated properly but a course of antibiotics was enough to get rid of the infection. 

Bokuto remembered the incident three months ago as raw as the day it happened. Akaashi falling unconscious as he held him, flitting around the hospital waiting for news, putting off his own recovery and scaring nurses who tried to help. He’d profusely apologised afterwards, thankfully enough they were understanding. 

For Akaashi it had been touch and go for a long time, he was sedated for two weeks to help keep him relaxed enough for recovery to start. 

Of course, the side effect of the sedatives meant that when he was brought round his memories of the event were muddled for a while. 

Bokuto having to go as far as to draw a timeline of events, bypassing the large medical words for a lot of strange hand gestures and not-so-real terminology. 

The second month consisted of checking Akaashi's leg to make sure his blood flow was normal and that no gangrene or necrosis had taken place. 

But now it had been three months. 

Akaashi was home, although still requiring bed rest, and Bokuto was waiting on him hand and foot. 

"Keiji! Want me to get you another glass of water?" 

"Huh? No, Koutarou, I'm fine thank you." Akaashi smiled, he still had a glass of water on the bedside table as well as a bowl of fruit, and everything else that Bokuto had insisted on getting for him. Akaashi watched Bokuto deflate at his answer. "But perhaps a cuddle? I do want one of those." 

Bokuto perked up at that.

"Right away!" He said, practically leaping into the bed beside Akaashi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for supporting me in my first fanfic! I honestly went through a really tough time while updating this and that's why I'd disappear for weeks at a time (sorry!), but seeing the comments made me feel motivated enough to update weekly again, and even sometimes two chapters at a time.
> 
> So a big thank you to you all!
> 
> I hope to see you all again in my future works!

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/i-am-a-bit-of-a-crank)


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